


Two Hundred Years Later- A Sanditon Bicentennial

by MirethGuilbain



Category: Sanditon (TV 2019), Sanditon - Jane Austen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-24
Updated: 2021-02-08
Packaged: 2021-03-05 06:01:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 27
Words: 77,886
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25489654
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MirethGuilbain/pseuds/MirethGuilbain
Summary: It's 2019, and the seaside town of Sanditon is celebrating its 200th anniversary with its first ever Regency fair. Recent graduate Charlotte Heywood settles into town for a month's vacation, to explore herself and figure out her future, and gets caught up in the lives of the new friends she makes. She does not expect to find a grand love adventure of her own, and that her trip to Sanditon might change her life forever. This story is a modern adaptation of Season 1, with some Regency costumes and balls for nostalgia, and no heart-breaking cliffhanger. Romance, emotion, maybe some angst, but ultimately a HEA.
Comments: 426
Kudos: 592





	1. A Fresh Start

**Author's Note:**

> All of the wonderful feedback to my Austen-inspired Season 2 fanfic has encouraged me to attempt a modern version. I've never done anything like this, so send your feedback! I will do my best to provide romance and sexual tension, but if you're looking for bodice-ripping and sex scenes, you won't find it in this story. I'm more about the character development, and trying to feel what they feel. Chapter updates will be announced on Twitter (@MirethGuilbain) and the FB fanfic group. I'll probably be able to post a new chapter every 1-3 days.

It was a brilliantly sunny summer afternoon, the type where the sky seems an endless stretch of perfect blue, everything seems saturated with vivid colour, and one finds themselves smiling for no apparent reason. Charlotte looked out the window of the train, wishing that she could get out and stop along the cliffs, stretching her legs and basking in the sea breezes. If she had been driving, she would have done exactly that- found a quiet place to pull off the motorway, and sit for a spell, watching the way the sunlight sparkled on the surface of the water. She breathed in deeply, trying to imagine she could smell the salt in the sea air, but all she could smell was the stale cigarette odor of the woman in the seat behind her. She sighed lightly, knowing that she would have plenty of time for walks along the water once she reached her destination, but impatient to actually arrive.

The train ride was not an especially long one- just under three hours- but Charlotte was finding it to pass very slowly. She had brought a book, but Plato’s Dialogues could not hold her interest. She kept glancing out the window, and losing her place on the page. Her thoughts were a jumbled mix of excitement, apprehension, and practicality. She had never attempted anything like this trip before, though she knew that a month on her own in a seaside town on the Sussex coast would hardly seem adventurous to many of her university friends. She had never taken a semester abroad or traveled the Continent, as so many of her friends had, and so she did not have the same experience of seedy youth hostels or trying to find her way around an unfamiliar place. London had been new enough for her, and it had taken her most of her first year of university to feel like she could get around the city without getting lost. It had been a huge adjustment, after the quiet rurality of Willingden, and even after five years there, London never quite felt like home. There were certainly aspects of city life that Charlotte enjoyed, like being able to find an open restaurant at 11:00pm after skipping supper to write a paper, or stumbling upon a gem of a vintage clothing store, but the whole of London was too loud, too crowded, too expensive, too hectic…too everything, really. It would be fun to visit her friends there, for a holiday weekend or the like, but Charlotte had no intention of living there for the foreseeable future. She had packed up her belongings from the flat she shared with two other graduate students without much of a backwards glance. Charlotte didn’t know what her future would bring, but she did know that it wouldn’t be in London. Her future, however, was not a today problem. She had promised herself this month to just be Charlotte, whatever that entailed, and would deal with finding a job and figuring out the rest of her life when the month was over.

At home, as the eldest of 6 siblings, Charlotte had grown up very accustomed to always sharing her space and having others around. She had shared a room with her sister Alison, who was only one year younger, for the first 18 years of her life. It was one of the few aspects of moving to London that had been familiar- that sense of always being surrounded by other people. Charlotte had had no difficulty whatsoever getting used to sharing a dorm room, or a flat, and had been a very easy flatmate to live with. None of her friends, however, had even the slightest interest in spending their summer in Sanditon, and so Charlotte had taken the rather un-Charlotte-like step of renting a small vacation flat for a month and striking off, completely alone, as her graduation present to herself. After devoting the majority of the past five years to a balance of work and study, Charlotte felt that she deserved a break. Maybe a Regency revival fair in a historic landmark town was not everyone’s idea of a dream vacation, but it was Charlotte’s. She was going to spend the next month immersing herself in Sanditon’s picturesque beaches and charming historical sights. And if no one she knew was going to enjoy it with her, well…she would simply have to exert herself to make some new friends. Surely the Regency Fair would draw some like-minded tourists that she would click with?

Lost in her thoughts, Charlotte passed the time. She alternated between giddy excitement to be almost in Sanditon and mild anxiousness that something would go wrong. She had printed out the information of her rental flat, in case she could not access a Wifi signal when she arrived, and she pulled it out of her purse more than once to review it. She had been in contact with her hostess, a friendly-seeming lady called Mary Parker, through email, and Mary had supplied her with very detailed instructions for how to get from Sanditon Station to Waterloo Terrace. Mary had even gone so far as to ask which train Charlotte planned to arrive on, so that she might meet her at the Terrace and show her the flat. Charlotte took no small comfort from this thoughtfulness, as it made her feel as though she had a friend to meet her, even though she had never laid eyes on Mary before. She sincerely hoped that meeting people would not prove difficult. Charlotte had never before had the experience of going somewhere where she was a complete stranger. Even when she went to university, she’d had a small handful of acquaintances of her parents to welcome her and get her on her feet.

The train began to slow as it pulled into the station, and Charlotte could hardly remain in her seat once it came to a stop. She collected her two suitcases, and by following Mary’s directions was able to make her way in under 20 minutes to a handsome building with stone façade in the center of Old Sanditon, the historic district of the town. The taxi ride had given Charlotte a glimpse of modern Sanditon, which sprawled inland from the old town, and it seemed a pleasant enough place to shop and explore, but Old Sanditon was absolutely charming, and exactly what she had come for! It felt incongruous to pull up in a taxi, rather than a chaise and four. The buildings looked just like the pictures in the history books that Charlotte had read, and as the taxi pulled away, she took a moment to stand and look about her, imagining how the streets must have looked two hundred years before when the seaside resort was first being developed.

“Miss Heywood?” a soft voice drew her attention back to the 21st century, and Charlotte turned to see that it belonged to a smiling, blonde lady in her late 30’s. Charlotte instinctively smiled back, and nodded acknowledgment.

“Yes, that’s me,” she replied. “Are you Mary Parker?”

“You bet. Nice to meet you!” The blonde lady continued to smile as she made her way towards Charlotte, politely gesturing towards one of Charlotte’s suitcases with the silent offer to help her carry it. Charlotte gratefully accepted, and followed Mary into the building as she began describing the flat and the amenities. It was a simple enough layout, with one bedroom, a 4 piece bathroom, small kitchen and living area. The furnishings were modern and tasteful, but Charlotte again felt that twinge of dissonance at having the conveniences of modern technology when the view from her window looked as though she had stepped through a time portal. She was far from disappointed, though. This flat would make a lovely little home base to retreat to every day, and she felt that her Sanditon adventure was off to a wonderful start.

“Thank you, Mary. This is all so delightful!” Charlotte reassured her. “I am so thrilled to be here. I hate to take any more of your time, but I don’t suppose you could tell me where I should go for groceries? Or what restaurants you recommend?”

“Certainly, dear. There is a binder on the coffee table, with all sorts of information about Sanditon, both the old town and the new. If there is anything you wish to know that is not in there, just send me a text or email. My husband’s family has been in the area for over two hundred years, and I don’t think there is anything about this town that they do not know or cannot find out!”

“Oh, I didn’t see the binder. That will be perfect, thanks! I don’t mind cooking at all, but I think I want to celebrate my first night here by eating out. Definitely seems better than eating take-out alone in an empty flat!”

“Surely you won’t be eating in a restaurant by yourself? Isn’t there a friend who can meet up with you?” Mary could not imagine this lovely young woman sitting in a lonely corner of a restaurant, eating alone. There was something very engaging about Miss Heywood. She exuded a certain warmth, undoubtedly assisted by her expressive eyes and ready smile, that made her seem like someone you wished to get to know better. Mary loved running her rental flats- and they owned several throughout Sanditon- but not every tenant inspired this wish. Mary had become an excellent judge of character, after interacting with so many vacation tenants, and her instinct told her that Charlotte Heywood could be a friend, despite the difference in their ages.

“Actually, I don’t know anyone here!” Charlotte replied cheerfully. “I don’t think I’ll mind eating alone. I mean, I’ve never tried it, but this is my month for adventure, so I’m sure I can handle it.”

““What sort of adventure brings you to Sanditon, of all places?” Mary asked, more intrigued by the moment. “People come here for all sorts of reasons, but I wouldn’t say that ‘adventure’ is one of them. We’re a pretty tame resort town.”

Charlotte began to explain what drew her to Sanditon- how her deep love of history since childhood and her later interest in urban planning and design had combined to give her a fascination of historic old towns. She told Mary how she had spent a week the previous summer at the Jane Austen Regency Fair in Bath, and had such a blast dressing up in costume and pretending to be a young lady in Regency times, and that when she heard Sanditon was celebrating its bicentennial this summer with a Regency fair of its own, she decided that it was the perfect graduation gift to herself. “I decided to come for a whole month,” she ended, “though my parents and my friends all think I am off my rocker. My sister Alison has bet me that I will be bored within a week, but I don’t think so. I know that I have only been here an hour or so, but there is something about Sanditon that is just…I don’t know, _speaking_ to me.”

“Charlotte, my dear, I think you should come have dinner with us tonight,” Mary said decisively. “My husband, Tom, is a complete enthusiast on the subject of Sanditon, and he will be delighted to meet you. He knows a ton about the town’s history, and he loves to talk about it with anyone who will listen. You two can talk about it to your heart’s content. Besides, I hate the image of your great adventure starting off with you eating by yourself.”

“Oh, I couldn’t impose!” Charlotte immediately protested, although she inwardly was longing to accept. The one thing her adventure lacked was a friend, and here it seemed that Mary was offering her two.

“I absolutely insist,” Mary replied firmly. She picked up the pen that was on the small desk in the bedroom, and wrote an address on the pad of paper beside it. “Now, I know you have my number, so ring if you get lost. We live in modern Sanditon, but it’s an easy 15 minute walk or an even shorter taxi. We eat around 6:30, for the kids’ sake. I hope that is not too early?”

Charlotte thanked her profusely, and confirmed that 6:30 suited her perfectly. It was only a little after 2pm now, and that gave her several hours to explore before supper. Mary let herself out, and sent Tom a text to let him know that they would have company. Sometimes, he got so caught up in his work that he lost track of time and missed supper with the kids, and she did not want to run that risk tonight after promising Charlotte the opportunity to pick Tom’s brains. She found herself looking forward to getting to know Charlotte better- there was such a mix of intelligence, sweetness and animation in her that was really rather bewitching.

Charlotte unpacked her suitcases, and made a quick trip to the grocery for some basic supplies. She would stock up more fully in a day or so, but for now, she didn’t feel like spending the time doing something so mundane. Stopping at her flat just long enough to put away her groceries, Charlotte then headed straight for the beach. She had longed to do ever since spying the water from the train window. She wasn’t really a “beach person” per say, since she never liked lying around in some tiny excuse for a bathing suit, getting covered with sand, but she loved the feel of the sand between her toes and the splash of water on her legs while she waded. There was a serenity found in the gentle lap of the water against the shore, and in the play of the breeze through her hair, that she had never been able to find in either the hectic bustle of London or the noisy cheerfulness of home.

She strolled along the beach, watching the people around her and amusing herself by inventing backstories for each of them. The young couple on the blanket, she mused, were on their first trip in years without their small children, and were thrilled to have some time alone with no diapers or strollers to deal with. There was something very sweet in the way they held hands and seemed completely absorbed in one another, without any inappropriate beach gropings, that made her think they had already been together for several years, and were still deeply in love. She liked the thought. Charlotte watched a tanned blond guy for several minutes, highly amused by his interactions with every reasonably attractive women who walked passed. Every time, he would assume a casual pose, run his hands through his wavy bond hair to make it look artfully tousled, and give a winning smile and a wink. She created a few different stories for him, ultimately settling on his being a down-on-his-luck musician with grandiose dreams of making it big.

Walking along, stopping every so often to pick up a pretty seashell, Charlotte wondered what kind of backstory someone would make up for her. She knew that she was considered pretty enough, and there had always been someone trying to hit on her on the rare occasion her friends got her out to a bar or club. Dating had never been a priority, though. She was in London to get her degree, and then went right on to her master’s. If she wasn’t studying, she was working her part-time job in a museum gift shop. Her parents could have paid her expenses, but she hated the idea of living off their generosity. That job hadn’t paid much, but it was enough for her monthly expenses. She only let her parents pay her rent. Independence mattered a lot to Charlotte, which was undoubtedly another reason she hadn’t bothered with a serious boyfriend. Observing her friends’ relationships, there had always been so much drama, and Charlotte just didn’t have room in her life for that. Or, she realized, she hadn’t had room while she was a student…and she wasn’t a student any more. Alison would absolutely be telling her to have some seaside fling, and Charlotte suspected that most of her friends would agree. Charlotte, on the other hand, suspected that she would be terrible at having a fling. Being completely honest with herself, Charlotte acknowledged that she wouldn’t even know how. But a seaside flirtation…now that was something she might be able to pull off. She allowed herself to daydream, picturing the Sanditon Midsummer Ball, where everyone would be in full Regency costume. She would have her fancy ball gown, her hair curled and pinned up in some elegant Jane Austen style, and she would be asked to dance by a handsome stranger. Dark hair, she decided, with dark eyes, and maybe a hint of five o’clock shadow. They would dance, and he would hold her closer than would have been considered proper, but she wouldn’t say anything. After the dance, he wouldn’t let her go, and instead would take her hand and lead her out to some balcony, where they would talk and talk and talk. And finally, he would kiss her, with the sounds of the orchestra swelling in the background, and it would be perfect. Charlotte sighed, smiling at the whole idea. Sometimes, she felt like she had been born into the wrong century, and that she would have done so much better with the etiquette of 19th century courtship than with 21st century mating rituals.

Eventually, Charlotte realized that she had been on the beach for hours, and that it was getting close to 6:30. Dragging her thoughts away from her fictitious Regency man, she returned to her flat to shower and change for supper with the Parkers.


	2. Dinner with New Friends

It took Charlotte a little time to decide what to wear, not knowing much of anything about the Parkers. It suddenly crossed her mind that perhaps it was slightly reckless to be going to the home of total strangers in an unfamiliar town, and she took the time to send Alison a quick email. An unnecessary precaution, undoubtedly, but Charlotte was a practical sort of person and it seemed the sensible thing to do.

_Dear Alison,_

_I’ve made it to Sanditon, and to my flat, with no trouble whatsoever. You really should come join me- the ocean is beautiful and the old town is so quaint! I’m totally in love already, and I haven’t even seen much of anything yet. I spent the afternoon walking along the beach, and am now off to dinner with my very kind landlady, Mary Parker. She mentioned that her husband, Tom, comes from a long line of Sanditon residents, and is very knowledgeable about the local history. I’m sure he and I will find a great deal to talk about. Tomorrow, I’m planning on playing full tourist in Old Sanditon. I’m so happy to be here. I know you think I’m insane, but at least I’m happy. Send my love to everyone._

_-Charlotte_

Charlotte then turned her attention back to the problem of what to wear, as she hardly had infinite options. Deciding that she couldn’t go wrong with a skirt, she chose a chocolate brown maxi skirt with a white peasant blouse, and added a pair of gold and white chandelier earrings and some strappy sandals. She called for a cab, and made it to the Parker’s residence right on time. It was a large, modern-looking townhouse, three stories tall, with a wrought iron gate in front. Charlotte was trying to figure out whether there was a bell or buzzer, and feeling rather awkward about it, when the front door opened, and a tall, slender man came out and bounded down the stairs.

“And you must be Charlotte Heywood!” he exclaimed, opening the gate and ushering her in. Charlotte knew that he must be close to 40, but he had an exuberance that made him seem closer to her age. She was surprised, but pleased, with this enthusiastic greeting, as it did away with a lot of her lingering doubt about having dinner with strangers. “Thomas Parker, call me Tom. Come in, come in. The children are so excited to have a surprise guest for supper that they are bouncing off the walls. Mary is trying to get baby James settled into his high chair, so she gave the children the job of watching out the window for you.” Charlotte looked up and sure enough, three little blond heads were peeping through the curtains. She waved up at them, and all three heads immediately popped out of sight. Tom grinned at her, and gestured for her to walk up and inside with him, where he introduced her to Alicia, Jenny and Henry. They were adorable, friendly kids, and Charlotte was very soon their new favourite person. They were so taken with her that they insisted she sit next to them at supper, read them their bedtime stories and help their mum tuck them into bed. Mary tried to excuse her, but Charlotte quickly reassured her that she didn’t mind at all. After all, she was very used to young children, and it made her feel more at home. Together, they put the kids to bed, and then went back downstairs to sit and chat with Tom.

Tom was an open book, and seemed totally comfortable sharing his life’s story with a stranger. His own history was pretty simple: born and raised in Sanditon, his job and hobbies all seemed to revolve around the success of the town as a resort and tourist destination. His family owned the posh resort hotel and spa, along with several other business and properties in the area, and he oversaw their various holdings. At the moment, he was completely absorbed in preparations for the Regency fair, which would be the first of its kind in Sanditon. Charlotte listened eagerly to all of his plans for the Bicentennial celebration, and his hopes for what it could mean for this town he loved so much. Charlotte could tell that he was a dreamer, an eternal optimist, and wondered what it would be like to have such dreams of her own. At the moment, she couldn’t see beyond her month’s vacation. She kinda envied Tom his passion for his Sanditon projects, but also wondered what it must be like for Mary to have to share his attention with a town. Mary, for her part, focused her time and energy on the children and their vacation rentals. She was a warm, hospitable, nurturing person by nature, and looking after the rentals gave her the opportunity to play hostess on a regular basis. The family had a part-time nanny, so that Mary could protect some time for the rentals.

Charlotte was very interested in learning more of the Parkers' deep Sanditon roots. Tom was indeed a treasure trove of Sanditon historical facts. He told Charlotte that his ancestors had been responsible for first building Sanditon up into a seaside resort of any renown, along with the other principal landholder in the area, Lady Denham. “There are still Denhams in Sanditon now,” he added, “though they are from a collateral branch of the family. There is a current Baronet Denham, but he lives abroad somewhere. The original Sanditon House was destroyed about a century ago, unfortunately, but the Denham legacy is alive and well. The current baronet’s aunt, Agatha Denham, still lives in the area, along with the baronet’s younger siblings, Edward and Esther. They own and operate a very successful line of Regency style souvenirs, from aprons to mugs to full ball gowns. You’ve probably heard of her brand, Lady D’s. Every Austen fan and English history buff seems to know it.”

“Oh my god! I have a mug and a coaster at home that my sister bought me from their website!” Charlotte cried. “They’re my favourites. One has a quote from Pride and Prejudice, and the other is an image of Jane herself.”

“Which quote?” Mary asked. “I love Pride and Prejudice. I think I've watched every adaptation ever made. I have the mug that says ‘ _T_ _hink only of the past as its remembrance gives you pleasure_ ’. It’s my go-to mug when I need to relax after the kids have been squabbling, or a tenant broke a lamp and forgot to mention it.”

Charlotte laughed, but blushed a little when Mary asked again which mug she owned. “It was a gag gift,” she explained. “My sister thinks that I don’t get out enough, so for my last birthday, she bought me one that said ‘ _What are men to rocks and mountains?’_ ” Tom and Mary laughed, and Charlotte laughed with them. It was amazing, but she felt as though she had known Tom and Mary for weeks, instead of just a few hours. Even though she did not usually disclose much about herself to people she just met, she found herself telling them about her family, her studies, and her current lack of direction. Tom was thrilled to hear that she had a degree in urban planning, and Mary had to remind him repeatedly that Charlotte was there on vacation, and not as his new intern. Mary didn’t have much family living anymore, and the relatives she did have lived up near Newcastle. They emailed every now and then, but Mary seemed happy to be a Parker and to think of Tom’s family as her own.

Tom, on the other hand, came from a large, close family not unlike Charlotte’s. He was the eldest of five siblings, although one of his sisters had died during childhood. She’d had a form of leukemia, and cancer treatments just hadn’t been what they are now. He kept a picture of her on the mantle, so that his kids would have a way to know and love this aunt they never had the chance to meet. He showed Charlotte the picture, and then replaced it and took down another, more recent picture of himself with his kids and three other adults, smiling together on the beach with a large sandcastle in front of them.

“This was taken last summer,” Tom explained, as he handed it to Charlotte. We had a sandcastle competition with the kids, but in the end we joined forces to build one huge, master castle. Mary took this for us. It’s one of my favourites.”

Charlotte studied the picture for a few minutes. She always found it fascinating how some families all looked alike, but others barely looked related. She and Alison, for example, were sometimes mistaken for twins, but she would never have guessed that any of the adults in this picture were siblings at all. Well, the youngest-looking of the bunch had Tom’s reddish colouring, and the other two shared dark, curly-ish hair, but that’s where the resemblances ended. Charlotte’s eyes were drawn repeatedly back to the dark-haired brother, which she hoped neither Tom or Mary could notice. Maybe it was just the picture, but he was one of the best-looking guys she had ever seen. He looked like he could be a movie star, with that tousled hair, just the right amount of scruff, and a tantalizing hint of a dimple. She swallowed, and handed the picture back to Tom before anyone could comment on how long she was taking to look at it. “You guys clearly love each other. It shows,” she remarked. “Do you get to see each other a lot?”

“Arthur and Diana, all the time. They live here in Sanditon,” Tom answered. He seemed to have forgotten that Charlotte had never met his brothers or sister, and didn’t know which one was Arthur. “Diana owns a health food store and maintains a lifestyle blog on the side. She’s really keen on plant-based diets, so don’t take it the wrong way if she starts haranguing you about giving up meat when she meets you.” Charlotte was touched by his assumption that she would be meeting the rest of his local family. She was also trying to find a subtle way to figure out which brother was Arthur, and hoping that Tom somehow answered this for her without her needing to ask. She didn’t have to wait long. “Arthur works in the store with Diana, at least for the time being.” Tom went on. “He likes to please Diana- he’s always been the baby of the family, and her favourite brother- but he’s really not into being vegan and working out the way that she is. Sidney has tried to drop hints that he should strike off on his own for a while, but Diana has selective hearing when it comes to Arthur.”

“And Sidney? Where does he live?” Charlotte hoped her question came out sounding casual. It was silly of her to even wonder about him, because she knew a guy like that was way out of her league, but she couldn’t help it. Even through a picture, his smile was magnetic.

“London,” Tom answered, “so not all that far. He comes to visit every month or two, when there’s a long weekend and he’s not going off somewhere more interesting with his glamorous city friends. The kids adore him, and he loves to spoil them, so he never lets too much time go by without popping in. Usually it’s a last-minute kind of thing. He’ll text Mary, ask her which rental is available for the next day, and then show up.”

Charlotte’s reaction to this kind of careless lifestyle must have shown on her face, because Mary was quick to chime in. “He’s so good, and he would come more often if he could. He has the warmest heart, and nothing matters more to him than family.”

“He’s the best,” Tom agreed. “I wish he would live here permanently, but I don’t think that’ll ever happen. Sanditon is, at its heart, a small, family-friendly place. He’s not the settling-down-in-a-small-town sort of guy. He thrives on the fast-paced London life. And I’ve certainly never heard him say anything about wanting a litter of little Parkers.” Mary gave him a sideways glance, frustrated with his obtuseness. Mary’s keener understanding of human nature had concluded a long time ago that Sidney was exactly the kind of person to settle down in a place like Sanditon…but only if he met the right person. She knew that he wasn’t really happy in London, but Tom never seemed to realize that. He was so easily fooled by what appeared on the surface. Tom didn’t seem to realize that his description made Sidney sound like some metropolitan playboy. Then again, Mary rationalized, Charlotte wasn’t likely to ever meet her brother-in-law , so it didn’t really matter what assumptions Charlotte made about him.

Glancing down at her watch by habit, Charlotte was shocked to realize that it was already 10:00pm. The evening had flown by, and while she wasn’t at all tired of Tom and Mary’s company, she didn’t want to overstay her welcome. She reluctantly told them that she had to go, and they also voiced their disappointment that the evening had to end. Tom offered to meet up with her during her wanderings through Old Sanditon tomorrow, and Charlotte happily accepted. Mary promised to join up with them at some point. Charlotte shook Tom’s hand, gave Mary a shy hug, and made her way back to her little flat. As she got ready for bed, she reviewed her surprising first day on her own, and couldn’t have been happier with how her trip was unfolding. New friends, history to nerd out on, the beauty of the sea just minutes away….Sanditon was like a dream come true. And as she smilingly drifted off to a contented sleep, her mind played back her daydream from earlier- the ball, the music, and the handsome gentleman on the terrace. She was asleep too quickly for her mind to make the connection that her dream man looked uncannily like Tom Parker’s brother.


	3. Meet the Denhams

Tom pulled his phone out of his pocket, and glanced down at it. “Mary says she can join us in about 10 minutes,” he told Charlotte. “How do you feel about a coffee break?”

“That sounds perfect,” Charlotte replied emphatically. “I could totally use a chance to sit down. I haven’t done this much walking about in ages, and my feet are getting pretty mad at me.”

“Can they handle 5 more minutes before they mutiny? Mary’s favourite bakery is only a short walk away. They have an outdoor patio, a full coffee bar, and the best macarons this side of the Channel. What do you say?”

“Who could say no to that?” Charlotte looked down at her shoes, and playfully said, “Come on, feet. Don’t give out on me yet!” Tom sent Mary a quick text to meet them at the bakery, and then set off with Charlotte down the street towards the newer part of Sanditon. The two of them had been wandering the streets of Old Sanditon for the past two hours, Tom pointing out every brick and stone that had a story attached, and regaling Charlotte with bits of family lore about the building up of Sanditon two hundred years before. Old Sanditon was not a large area, comprising only five or six streets, but it had been beautifully restored according to the journals and maps that had been preserved by the Parker family. Tom had mentioned more than once that the restoration of Old Sanditon had been his pet project for the past two years, and that the Regency fair was also a brain child of his. Charlotte picked up on a few cues that it had been a very expensive project, but Tom was extremely optimistic that the influx of tourists for the fair would more than make up for the outlay.

Several buildings had plaques mounted with historical facts, and Charlotte had almost squealed with delight when she came across a plaque referencing Sir James Stringer. She had written a paper a few years back about his influence on urban planning during the Industrial Revolution. If she remembered correctly, he embarked on his architectural career not long after leaving Sanditon, and was eventually knighted in recognition of his services to the country. The Prince Regent himself had hired Sir James to build him a new country estate, which had been preserved and was open to tours. Another plaque informed Charlotte of where the Prince Regent had stayed on his first visit to Sanditon in 1820. Charlotte’s favourite new spot, however, was Trafalgar House, the home where the original Thomas Parker had dreamt up his vision of Sanditon as a fashionable seaside resort. The Parker family had converted it into a small museum about five years ago, and it was an absolute gem. Charlotte happily roamed from room to room, which had been refurbished in the Regency style, gazing at the preserved drawings and documents that had been framed and hung on the walls. There were even some old formal portraits of long-dead Parker ancestors. It was half home, half archive, and the result was a cozy, intimate little slice of nerd heaven for someone like Charlotte.

Tom and Charlotte got to the bakery first, and got an outside table. Charlotte gratefully sat down, and began to thank Tom, for probably the fifth time that morning, for giving up so much of his time to showing her the old town. “I think everyone who comes here must fall in love with the place!” she exclaimed, to Tom’s delight. “I’ve been here less than 24 hours, and I can’t imagine ever wanting to leave. Sanditon must be the most perfect place in England.”

“I couldn’t agree with you more, my dear,” Tom chuckled, “and I’m sure that all of the visitors for the fair will feel the same way. I’m hoping that every rental property and hotel will be full to bursting for the rest of the summer!”

“Have many tickets to the fair been sold already?” Charlotte asked.

“Some, but there’s plenty of room for more! I’m expecting the Midsummer Ball to be completely sold out!” Tom replied sanguinely, but Charlotte did some quick mental math and was surprised at his optimism. The Sandition Regency Fair was a 10-day festival, and was opening in four days. The only events requiring costumes and tickets were the Assembly Ball, which kicked off the entire festival, the annual Sanditon cricket match, and the Midsummer Ball, which ended the festival. If there were only a few days until the festival opened, shouldn’t most of the tickets already be sold? She didn’t have time to ask Tom more, though, because Mary arrived only a moment later and immediately asked Charlotte how she had found Old Sanditon.

Charlotte waxed eloquent about her morning tour for several minutes, until the server came to take their orders. She would happily have continued, but Mary had remembered a bit of news to tell her husband. “Guess who’s coming in time for the Assembly Ball? Sidney! He just emailed this morning to tell me that he’s reserved rooms at the resort for himself and two friends. I told you that he would come through, dear. He always does.”

“I never doubted, Mary. Not really,” Tom replied. “I just wish he wasn’t always so last minute with his plans. Did he say which friends were coming?”

“No, should I have asked?”

“I guess it doesn’t matter. Why wouldn’t he take a flat, though? He usually prefers one of the rentals to the resort.”

“I didn’t ask that either. I suppose he and his friends are in more of a hotel mood.”

“I’m sure you’re right. Less picking up after themselves.” Tom was too pleased with the idea of Sidney bringing some of his swanky London pals to really care much where in Sanditon they stayed. “Well, Charlotte, I guess you’ll get to meet my brother and his posh London friends soon.”

Charlotte startled to be so suddenly included in the conversation, and didn’t have a reply right away. She had been fascinated observing the interaction between Tom and Mary, and forming a preliminary opinion of Sidney Parker. He might be the most beautiful man she had ever seen a picture of, but she wasn’t so sure she wanted to meet this ‘posh’ brother who preferred not to have to pick up after himself. “It’s always nice to meet new people,” she finally said. It was the most non-committal reply she could think of. Mary sent her a quick glance that Charlotte couldn’t interpret. The sound of Tom’s name being called saved Charlotte from any further conversation about his brother.

“Mr. Parker! There you are!” an older woman came right up to their table, with no apparent awareness that she was interrupting any conversation. She was well-dressed, in an obviously expensive silk blouse and black slacks, with carefully styled gray hair and antique-looking jewelry. Her back was slightly bent from osteoporosis, and Charlotte had a sneaking suspicion that she was actually wearing a corset. The woman sat down at their table without invitation, ignoring Charlotte as completely as she ignored the pretty blond woman who was trailing behind her looking embarrassed. “I have called your office three times today, only to be told that you were ‘out’. Out! When there is so much to do? And here I find you, not a care in the world, with your own wife and…” she paused, as though noticing Charlotte for the first time, “…and some other young lady. Who is this young lady?”

Tom swallowed a chuckle, and introduced Charlotte to this fascinating, unexpected addition to their party. “Mrs. Agatha Denham, may I introduce you to Charlotte Heywood? Charlotte is a recent graduate in urban planning and has arrived yesterday to attend our entire Regency Fair.” Charlotte murmured something polite, watching Mrs. Denham’s very expressive face as Tom introduced her. It was obvious that she was wholly unimpressed with Charlotte, and with Tom for having the audacity to drink coffee at an outside patio in the middle of the day.

“Hmph,” she responded. “It’s better than nothing, but one young lady is not the hordes of tourists you promised me. I have invested a great deal into this fair, Mr. Parker, and you assured of a quick return on my investment!”

“Mrs. Denham…” Tom began, but Mary interjected before he could.

“Did I tell you, Mrs. Denham, that there is a community service group coming for the summer? I have just rented out two flats to them.”

“Community service?” Mary’s news succeeded in silencing Tom on another monologue about the inevitable success of the fair, but did nothing to distract Mrs. Denham from her harangue. “What, a bunch of petty criminals doing time in Sanditon? Is this supposed to mollify me?”

“No, no,” Mary explained. “They are from a national volunteer organization that goes around the country and helps clean up beaches and so on. University students, mainly, but other adults join as well.”

“Hmph,” Mrs. Denham said again. It seemed a favourite expression of hers. “I am less than impressed. And who are these tree-huggers coming here?”

“The group leader, who I have been coordinating with, is a Mrs. Griffiths. She has five or six young people coming with her- sisters named Julia and Phyllida Beaufort, a Georgiana Lambe, and two or three other names I don’t remember off the top of my head. They’ve taken one flat for the girls, and one for the boys.”

“Georgiana Lambe?!” the pretty blond woman spoke for the first time. She had been standing awkwardly behind Mrs. Denham the entire time, and Charlotte had been surprised that no one had acknowledged her. She was extremely pretty, with wavy blond hair swept back in a simple chignon at the base of her neck, and classic English rose colouring. She was wearing a very tasteful cornflower blue sundress and white cardigan, which perfectly complimented her complexion, but the modesty of her dress did not detract from her sensuality. At the sound of her voice, every head at the table turned in her direction.

“Yes, I’m sure that was the name. Why? Who is she?” Mary asked. Charlotte was more tempted to ask who this blond woman was, but she couldn’t think of a way to ask without sounding really rude. She hoped at some point, somebody would realize that they hadn’t been introduced.

“If it’s the same Georgiana Lambe, she’s really popular on Instagram for makeup tutorials. Like influencer level popular. But I doubt it’s the same person. I can’t imagine _that_ Georgiana Lambe coming to a place like this to pick up plastic off the beach.”

“Instagram? Influencer? Clara, I swear I don’t know what you’re talking about half the time,” Mrs. Denham said. “The table next to us just emptied. Why don’t you and Miss Heywood sit there and be young together, while Mr. Parker and I talk business for a few minutes?”

Clara, for this seemed to be her name, didn’t seem to find it strange to be ordered to sit at a different table, but Charlotte was shocked at Mrs. Denham’s rudeness. Mary shot her an apologetic look, nodded towards the other table and mouther ‘ _I’ll explain later’._ Charlotte got up, feeling pretty annoyed, and went to sit next to Clara. “Hi, I’m Charlotte. And you seem to be Clara,” she said as she sat, deciding to just lean into the weirdness of the whole situation. “Nice to meet you.”

Clara chuckled. “I should apologize for my aunt. She’s a total throwback to older times. Sometimes I wonder if she thinks she really is ‘Lady D’ and is allowed to order everyone about, lady-of-the-manor style.”

“She’s your aunt?” Charlotte was shocked. She hadn’t quite figured out what backstory to create for Clara, but niece to Mrs. Denham wasn’t one of her imaginary options. Nor had Tom’s history of the Denhams included anyone named Clara. “I thought her niece was named Esther?”

“Esther’s from the Denham side. I’m a Brereton,” she replied, as though this explained everything. Charlotte must have looked as puzzled as she felt, because Clara added, “My dad’s mum was Aunt Agatha’s eldest sister. She married my grandfather, Charles Brereton, had my dad and his sibs, and my dad had me. So I’m a few generations removed from being a Denham, but family enough to be allowed to live and work for Lady D’s. Aunt Agatha prefers to hire family for the operations side of things. It’s a quirk of hers.” Clara’s tone implied that her Aunt Agatha had many other quirks, not to be mentioned at the moment.

“What do you do?”

“Officially, I’m Aunt Agatha’s personal assistant. I do her scheduling, take minutes at her meetings, arrange her personal affairs, etc. Unofficially, I’m her sounding board. She likes to think that all of her business decisions come from her alone, but she always needs to think and talk through them out loud, and I’m the one she trusts to listen in confidence.”

Charlotte wasn’t quite sure how to respond to this. There was something smug about the way Clara described her role at Lady D’s that was off-putting, but Charlotte was stuck at this table and had to figure out a way to continue the conversation. Since Clara didn’t seem that interested in asking Charlotte about herself, it fell on Charlotte to think of something to say.

“And the Denham niece and nephew? Do they work for the family business, too?”

“Yeah, they both do. Well, Esther actually works. She’s the CFO. Edward’s title is VP of Operations, but I couldn’t begin to tell you what he actually does all day.” Clara shrugged dismissively, and Charlotte started to hope that Mrs. Denham would finish her ‘business’ quickly so that this awkward conversation could end. The two young woman sat in silence for a few minutes, until Clara finally took the hint and asked Charlotte about her plans for her time in Sanditon. Relieved to have a topic that she could contribute to, Charlotte talked of her excitement for the Regency fair and the chance to explore someplace new for the next month, and Clara made a few suggestions of her favourite bars and night-spots. Clara got Charlotte’s number and immediately texted her the names, so that Charlotte wouldn’t forget them

“Clara, what are the two of you talking about?” Mrs. Denham suddenly called over to them.

“We were talking about Sanditon’s night life, Aunt. I was just recommending Sea Sharp to Charlotte. You remember, the duelling piano bar I went to on my last birthday?”

“Hmph,” Mrs. Denham said. “I still don’t understand how pianos can duel. And the music you young people listen to! It shouldn’t even be called music. I prefer to listen to something jolly.” Charlotte noticed that no one felt the need to respond to this unsolicited opinion. A moment later, Mrs. Denham indicated her intention to leave, but Charlotte’s relief was short-lived. The whole party was accosted by two more newcomers, who had seen them from across the street and made a bee-line for Mrs. Denham.

“There you are, Aunt!” the tall, blond guy said, smiling in an incredibly phony way that showed far too many teeth. “We had no idea we would find you here!” Charlotte was amused to recognize him as her failed musician from the beach yesterday. Standing on the street in a crisp button-down shirt, complete with pocket square, and pressed slacks, he didn’t look anything like a down-on-his-luck performer anymore. He looked successful, and confident. Up close, he was actually pretty good-looking. This must be Edward Denham, she instantly concluded, and was tickled at how far off her made-up backstory turned out to be. She turned her attention to the woman beside him, correctly assuming her to be Esther Denham. Once again, Charlotte reflected on how some siblings don’t look anything alike. Esther Denham had the most lovely deep red hair, in a fancy French braid, and she had the freckles to go with her milkmaid complexion. Charlotte’s university friends would have said she had ‘resting bitch face’, but it didn’t take away from her beauty. She was the kind of woman who would turn heads and stop traffic, and her attitude said that she knew it and didn’t give a damn. Charlotte idly wondered what she would look like if she smiled, and bit back a smile of her own as her wayward imagination speculated whether Esther Denham’s last recorded smile had been in 2018 or 2008. She took a sip of her coffee, and the motion drew Edward’s attention to her. He smiled again, this time directed at Charlotte, and stepped over to her table. “Excuse me,” he said smoothly. “I hope we weren’t interrupting. Hey, Clara.” The last was said almost as an after-thought. It was really weird, Charlotte thought, that every Denham seemed to treat Clara as though they forgot she was around, but that Clara herself obviously felt that she was Mrs. Denham’s right hand. There was something peculiar about this family, but she couldn’t put her finger on it.

“Edward, Esther, this is our new friend Charlotte Heywood,” Mary said. Charlotte again murmured something polite. It was too many new people, and too many strange vibes, all at once for her to know what to say. Edward didn’t feel so constrained. He pulled a chair away from an empty table, squeezed it in between Charlotte and Clara, and sat himself down. Then he picked up Charlotte’s hand, and gave it an old-fashioned kiss, saying “It is absolutely a pleasure to meet you.” Charlotte usually didn’t like when guys were so touchy right off the bat, but somehow Edward had pulled off the maneuver. Maybe it was because she had spent the morning in Old Sanditon, imagining herself in Regency times, but she could picture Edward Denham in a top hat and embroidered waistcoat, with a perfectly tied cravat, and walking stick in hand. His gallantry towards her didn’t quite jibe with his off-handed greeting to Clara, but Charlotte decided not to overthink it. Maybe Edward would be a good candidate for her seaside flirtation, she wondered. He wasn’t her tall, dark and handsome dream man, but hey…two out of three wasn’t bad.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know this may seem like it's starting slow, especially for those of you impatient for Sidney's arrival. He's coming soon, I promise!


	4. Regency Fair- Opening Day

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay! I've decided to split the ball into more than one chapter, because it was getting very long. I will also be taking some liberties with the chronology, since a 10 day Regency festival doesn't leave a lot of time for everything that happens in Season 1. I'm going to do my best to fit everything in, but perhaps some interactions or events will be out of order.

Charlotte blinked her eyes open, and gave a luxurious stretch. Maybe it was the invigorating sea air, or just that she had walked more in the past three days than she had in an entire university term, but she was sleeping more soundly and waking more refreshed here in Sanditon than ever before. She snuggled into the pillow, giving a contented sigh. This vacation was turning out to be sheer bliss. She had spent the last two days almost completely by herself, and had visited the old Sanditon church grounds, walked along the cliffs listening to a podcast, and started exploring the more modern part of Sanditon as well. She made a point of finding her way into Diana Parker’s health food shop, and introduced herself to both Diana and Arthur. She had felt a little awkward doing so, but Mary had insisted that they would be delighted to meet any friend of hers and Tom’s, and Charlotte found that Mary had been completely right. Turns out that Mary even texted both of them that Charlotte might pop in, and they immediately treated Charlotte as a long-lost pal. They both had Tom’s warmth and energy, even if they showed it a bit differently. Diana, who was an attractive brunette around thirty or so, tried to figure out which vitamin deficiency Charlotte was most likely suffering from and had a list of homeopathic suggestions ranging from coconut oil to wheatgrass infused lemonade. She made Charlotte a smoothie on the house, with her special blend of antioxidant, immune-boosting and probiotic ingredients. Charlotte was pleasantly surprised to find that it tasted pretty good, but decided not to ask what was actually in it.

Arthur was a joy, and reminded Charlotte immediately of her brother John. He displayed a playfulness that was never fully supressed, but there was a kindness to him that saved him from coming across as immature. While Diana made suggestions about the best places to get non-animal based meals in the town, Arthur slipped Charlotte a note, on which he had drawn a cartoon pig saying “I’m yummy” and added a list of more popular restaurant suggestions. Charlotte had to bite back a laugh, and tried to give Arthur the same big sister glare that worked so well on John, but Arthur just winked back at her. Charlotte remembered Tom saying that Arthur wasn’t really as into the whole plant-based thing as Diana, and Charlotte had to agree. Arthur just hadn’t found his own path yet, and was content for the time being to work for his sister, whom he clearly adored, and just enjoy life.

All in all, Sanditon was more than meeting Charlotte’s expectations and today…today was the first day of the Regency fair, and Charlotte was almost giddy with excitement. She bounded out of bed to go look at her ball dress, and tried to decide if she should wear it all day or save it for the Assembly tonight. She would have to take a few good full-length selfies, or get Mary to take her picture, to send to Alison, who was the mastermind behind all of Charlotte’s Regency costumes. Alison’s hobby was sewing, and she had happily taken on the project of finding Regency patterns and making the dresses herself. Charlotte had three costumes, thanks to Alison, and tonight was going to wear the white sprigged muslin. It looked like it came straight out of the BBC Pride and Prejudice, and Charlotte couldn’t wait to wear it. On the other hand, it was going to be a warm day, and she didn’t want to sweat in it, or risk spilling on it or tearing it. The more she thoughts about it, the more she decided it would be better to wear normal clothes for the day, and then change into her costume before the ball. She would need to come back to do her hair anyway. Giving the dress one last, fond look, Charlotte pulled on a long, flowy grey skirt and a fitted black graphic tee that said “Pizza. Wine. Mr. Darcy” in white script. She tied her hair up in a messy bun, and decided to start off her day with coffee and a muffin from that bakery Mary loved.

Charlotte was really learning her way around the town, after all of her wanderings the past few days, and she made it to the bakery without getting lost once. She was one street away, trying to decide whether to get her order to go, and bring it down to the beach to eat while watching the waves, or to get a table and do some people-watching, when Mary popped up next to her.

“Good morning, Charlotte! Where are you off to this morning?” Mary asked her, falling into step beside her.

“The bakery, for starters,” Charlotte replied. “After that, I have no idea. Can I buy you a coffee and bribe you to join me?”

“No bribes needed, silly girl,” Mary laughed. “I’d love to join you, but I only have a few minutes.” They reached the bakery, and Mary opened the door, gesturing for Charlotte to enter first. “If you feel like grabbing a coffee to go, you’re welcome to come with me. I promised Tom and Mrs. Denham that I would stop by the pavilion that Lady D’s set up, first thing this morning.”

“I would love to! I wasn’t sure when the different booths and stuff would start going up. What will be in the pavilion?” Charlotte ordered her coffee and muffin, turning to Mary to get her order, and paid for them both while Mary described the outdoor store that Mrs. Denham and Clara had put together.

“Mrs. Denham thought it would be smart to have a space to sell costumes, accessories, merchandise and the like. Most of Lady D’s sales are online, but they do have a small storefront here in town, but she wanted something bigger and more eye-catching for the festival.” Mary took a sip of her coffee, and then confided, “I think Mrs. Denham has spent more than she likes on creating this pop-up shop, and she will hold it against Tom if it doesn’t turn out to be lucrative.”

“I think it is a wonderful idea!” Charlotte replied with enthusiasm. “In fact, I could use some accessories for tonight. I have a dress, but no gloves or hair ribbons or anything to really finish off the look. Will there be anything like that?”

“I bet there will be,” Mary assured her. “Thank you, Charlotte. Tom really needs this festival to be a success. I don’t know how to help him, or even offer in a way that he would accept.”

“I….I would be happy to help out,” Charlotte offered. “Would he let me, do you think?”

“You know, he might. It’s hard getting men to accept help, especially husbands, but it’s worth a try.” Mary gave her a grateful smile. She glanced down the street, preparing to step off the curb, and then suddenly stopped and starting waving at someone approaching them. “Charlotte, look! It’s Sidney! He’s arrived!”

Charlotte wasn’t sure where to look, as Mary’s brother-in-law drew closer. It seemed rude to watch him approach, since she didn’t know him at all, but also rude to look away. She was also very much aware that he was even better-looking in person, than in a photo, and she had never known what to say to really hot guys. Not that she encountered all that many. But still, it was hard not to want to stare at Sidney Parker, especially when he was up close. She took a sip of her coffee, grateful to have something to do with her hands, and tried not to look as awkward as she felt.

“Sidney!” Mary cried, leaning up on her toes to give him a kiss on the cheek. Sidney smiled warmly at her, showing a flash of dimple. “Did you just arrive?”

“Yes, I just dropped by bags at the resort, and was going to stop by the house to see you and the kids.” He flicked a glance at Charlotte. “New nanny?”

“What? No!” Mary replied, slightly startled. “Why would the nanny be here if the kids aren’t? No, this is my new friend, Charlotte Heywood. Charlotte, Tom’s brother, Sidney.”

“Hi,” Charlotte said, but got no further. Sidney looked her up and down quickly, almost too quickly for her to be sure of it, and then he turned back to Mary. She was really taken aback by his rudeness, and by the feeling that she had just been rejected by someone she’d barely met.

“So where are you off to, then?” Sidney asked his sister-in-law. He kept his attention on Mary, and not on her friend, trying to pretend that he hadn’t noticed how cute she was. She wasn’t his usual type, but there was a girl-next-door quality that was strangely appealing. Not that he was interested. The last thing he needed or wanted was some local Sanditon chick getting hung up on him. 

“Lady D’s pavilion. We’re going to check out the accessories and merchandise for tonight’s Assembly Ball, and support the cause.”

Sidney glanced at Mary’s friend again. A few tendrils of dark brown hair had slipped from her bun, and waved in the slight breeze. She had very expressive brown eyes, and the lushest lips he’d ever seen. He didn’t need to let his gaze drop to remember that other parts of her were equally lush. He’d also taken in her graphic tee, and quickly surmised that she was probably one of those ridiculous Austenphile girls who expected real life to end in some happily ever after with Prince Charming. He couldn’t quite read the look she was giving him, but he did what he could to make sure she wasn’t casting him in the role of her personal Mr. Darcy. “And you’re here for the festival…Sherry, was it?”

Charlotte’s eyes narrowed for a fraction of a second. For a moment, she thought Sidney Parker was looking at her with condescension, but it was surely her imagination. He didn’t even know her, so he couldn’t disapprove of her. “Charlotte,” she said firmly, but with a pleasant smile. She didn’t want to make Mary uncomfortable by displaying that she was very unimpressed with her brother-in-law so far.

“Right,” Sidney said. “Well, I’ll let you go do your shopping, ladies. I’ll go pop in to see Arthur and Di, and then I’ll see the kids afterwards.” He bid them farewell, giving Mary another kiss on the cheek, but barely looking at Charlotte as he said goodbye. Charlotte felt strangely let down by the encounter. In the picture on the Parker’s mantle, he had been smiling, and happy, and seemed like someone Charlotte would want to get to know. The real Sidney Parker might be hot as hell, but he was clearly an arrogant prick.

Unaware of Charlotte’s exact thoughts, but suspecting they were not in Sidney’s favour, Mary tried to smooth over the first impression he had made. “He’s so devoted to his family,” she started saying. “I know he can seem abrupt, like he was with you, but he has the warmest, biggest heart.”

“I’m glad to hear it,” Charlotte said, not really believing a word of it.

“He doesn’t have a great opinion of pretty women,” Mary confided. “He’s had some bruising experiences in the past, and it’s left him with some baggage. And that’s not even counting the women who see him as some kind of trophy, or just want to use him for his money or connections. He puts up walls really quickly. I’d like to see him find someone special, but I worry that he won’t let his guard down enough to let anyone in.”

Charlotte said something noncommittal. She had gleaned from Tom that his brother Sidney was in finance- whatever that meant- and ran with a pretty chic crowd. Mary painted a pretty different picture, and Charlotte wasn’t sure which version of Sidney Parker was more accurate. But whether he was a posh playboy or a secret softie, Charlotte wasn’t going to give him another thought.

* * *

Charlotte looked at herself in the mirror one last time. The white above-the-elbow gloves and white feather that she had bought at Lady D’s went perfectly with her dress, and she’d even managed to follow a YouTube tutorial to do her hair. She practiced giving a little curtsey, and couldn’t help giggling a little. She looked like she was auditioning for the part of Lizzy Bennett, but she didn’t feel as ridiculous as she had feared. Instead, she felt beautiful. Where modern cocktail dresses left her feeling too exposed and on display, the Regency costume was the perfect mix of alluring and modest. She knew she was a bit bustier than had been fashionable back in the 19th century, but the high empire waist was so flattering and she loved the way the material flowed like water when she walked. She grabbed her little purse- ‘ _Reticule,_ ’ she reminded herself. ‘ _Tonight, it’s a reticule’_ \- and left her flat. The Assembly Rooms were only two short blocks away from Waterloo Terrace, and her blue ballet flats were comfortable enough to walk and dance in.

When she walked into the Assembly Rooms, she stopped and looked about her in awe. She couldn’t decide if it felt more like stepping onto a movie set or through a time portal. Everyone was in Regency costume, the room was lit with candles and glittering chandeliers, and drinks were being passed around by liveried footmen. She took a glass of wine, and found a place to one side where she could observe the people entering. She decided that she needed a backstory for herself tonight. If she was going to enter FantastyLand, then she didn’t have to be serious, studious Charlotte Heywood. She would be….who was she? Even in pretend, she couldn’t imagine herself some grand lady. She was a gentleman’s daughter, she decided, who was determined not to marry for anything less than love. She had a modest dowry- maybe three thousand pounds- and loved both to read and dance. Like a combination of Elizabeth Bennet and Catherine Morland- not as sarcastic as the former, nor as naïve as the latter. There, that would do nicely.

The musicians started up, and Charlotte saw Tom move to the centre of the room. He had a loud, booming voice that worked well in this role as Master of Ceremonies, and he was in full character as he welcomed everyone to the Assembly Ball, and the opening of the Sanditon Regency Fair. Charlotte left her spot by the wall, and moved towards the dance floor. She really, really wanted to dance. Being a wallflower at a Regency ball was _not_ part of her fantasy. She found herself, by chance, standing next to Clara and Esther, and she smiled at them both, giving a little curtsey. Clara returned both smile and curtsey, whereas Esther just curtsied. Really, did that girl ever look happy?

Tom noticed the three women standing there, and beckoned over to a trio of guys who had just entered the room. He was taking his role as Master of Ceremonies very seriously, and was determined that all present would dance and make merry. Charlotte’s heart gave a funny lurch when she saw that one of the guys was Sidney Parker. She did not want to dance with him, but _damn…_ the guy filled out a waistcoat and breeches well. She gave a hard swallow, as it finally clicked that he was everything she had imagined in her Regency dream man- at least on the surface. Her dream man was civil and attentive and had a romantic streak, and she couldn’t imagine any of those descriptors fitting Sidney “I’m All That and I Know It” Parker. She looked at his friends, and hoped one of them would ask her instead. The tallest one looked bored and cynical, but the shorter one had a kind face. Sidney gestured with his head towards the three women, and led his pals over to them.

“Crowe, Babbers, let me introduce you to Miss Brereton, Miss Denham, and Miss Heywood. Ladies, my friends Mr. Crowe and Lord Babington.” The shorter one gave Sidney a mock glare at this introduction. Clearly, giving him a title was some kind of inside joke.

“Charmed, and all that,” Mr. Crowe said, while Lord Babington gave a pretty good imitation of a courtly bow. “My friend here says that we will find plenty of amusement and… _exercise_ …here in Sanditon. Is he right?”

“You can always go jump in the ocean,” Esther replied, her tone drier than unbuttered toast. “For a swim, of course.” Lord Babington gave a bark of laughter, which he tried to disguise by coughing.

“I think my friend Mr. Crowe referred to dancing,” he interjected quickly. “Might we hope to tempt any of you ladies to dance with us?”

Charlotte glanced at Clara and Esther, neither of whom seemed like they were going to respond. She decided to speak up, and hoped they didn’t mind. “I’m sure you could, sir.”

Crowe made a beeline for Clara. Babington stepped forward, and Charlotte thought he was going to ask her, but he reached his hand towards Esther instead. _Shit_ , she thought. That left her standing awkwardly with Sidney Parker. She didn’t want him thinking that she _wanted_ him…but she didn’t want to be left on the sidelines, either. Should she look at him? Or not? She glanced at him, trying to keep a pleasant, but bland, smile on her face. He looked down at her, his face completely impassive, and held out his hand. He didn't even pretend to have any interest in dancing with her. It was all Charlotte could do to maintain her smile. She put her gloved hand on his, and let him lead her to the dance floor. She imagined that this was exactly how Elizabeth Bennett had felt when she had to dance with Mr. Darcy at the Netherfield ball- except that Darcy actually wanted to dance with her, and Sidney Parker could not make his reluctance any plainer. On second thought, this must have been more like how Lizzy felt when she had to dance with Mr. Collins. Gorgeous or not, Sidney Parker was clearly no Mr. Darcy.


	5. At the Assembly Ball

The first few movements of the dance were beyond awkward. Neither really looked at the other, and the silence erased much of Charlotte’s pleasure in the graceful motions and beautiful music. He was a very good dancer, even if not a good partner. She decided that some kind of conversation was necessary, and, remembering that Mary said he was devoted to his family, decided that the Parkers would be the safest topic.

“Your family seems very happy to have you here, Mr. Parker,” she said, taking comfort in the old-fashioned manners. She couldn’t imagine calling him by his first name.

A ghost of a smile crossed his face, and he looked at her fully for the first time since their dance began. “I’m always happy to come see them,” he replied, his tone surprisingly friendly.

“And your friends? Tom seems relieved that they came with you.”

“They’ve been here once or twice, but I’ve never made them wear costumes before. Not sure they’ll ever forgive me.” Sidney looked away for a moment, and then back at her. Maybe it was the costume, or the way her hair accentuated those dark, huge eyes, but Sidney thought she seemed a different person than when he met her earlier. Gone was the impression of Austenphile Girl, and instead he found himself dancing with a beautiful woman- and one who had intelligent, expressive eyes that he could drown in. He looked away again. He had no interest in drowning in any woman. “They’re good guys, Babington especially. He has a lot of connections in the business world, including the tourism industry, and could help Tom make a lot of valuable connections. So if he takes a liking to this whole Regency revival idea, and agrees to make some introductions…”

“The general rejoicing would be unconfined?” Charlotte finished for him.

He looked back at her. “Precisely.” He hadn’t expected her to be quick. He hadn’t really expected her to be much of anything.

“And you care about such things?” she asked, trying to figure out this puzzle of a man. Gone was the cynical sophisticate, and instead she found herself dancing with a handsome man- and one who might even have a sentimental streak and a soft spot for family.

“For my brother’s sake, I do,” he replied. Whatever he was going to say next, Charlotte would never learn. There was a small commotion at the entrance to the Assembly Rooms, and the dancers slowly halted. A small group of women had entered, but Charlotte couldn’t see what the fuss was about. One of the women was a middle-aged woman, and the other three were no older than Charlotte. Two were clearly sisters, and they scampered off immediately to the nearest wine-toting footman. The last woman seemed to be the reason for all the whispers. She was a stunning woman, no older than twenty, daintily built, with flawless dark skin and her hair beautifully done up in intricate braids. Her green silk dress wasn’t exactly Regency style, but it suited her perfectly. She looked as bored and disdainful of her surroundings as Mr. Crowe had, and seemed not to notice the whispers.

“That’s Georgiana Lambe!” Charlotte heard someone say behind her. The name rang a bell, and she then remembered what Clara Brereton had said about there being an Instagram sensation by that name. Apparently, she was the same Georgiana Lamb after all. Charlotte had never joined Instagram, so she didn’t really understand the big deal, but this girl clearly was a big deal to a lot of the people at the Assembly.

Sidney dropped his arms, and made his way towards the new arrival. Charlotte was more disappointed than she would have anticipated when their dance began. It was just starting to feel as though the ice was thawing, and she was getting a glimpse of a part of Sidney Parker that was tantalizingly normal. She watched him greet Miss Lambe, and that glimmer of normalcy dropped away again. No one in her world knew Internet stars. And they clearly knew each other. It was obvious in the way they spoke to each other. But if Miss Lambe was as young as she looked, then there had to be a good eight or ten years difference between them. Charlotte really hoped that whatever history they had didn’t include sleeping together, and she realized that she didn’t have any interest in inventing a backstory for the two of them. She didn’t like the idea of Sidney Parker with this young woman, not in _that_ way. It didn’t seem to fit. Then again, they really didn’t seem to be on friendly terms, so maybe a bad break-up did explain something. She couldn’t help but be curious, and resigned herself to the likely fact that she would never know this story.

Since her dance was apparently over, she left the dance floor and decided to explore the Assembly Rooms a bit. The recreation and restoration was really extraordinary. She rounded a corner, and stopped abruptly. Up ahead, ensconced in a shadowy corner, were Edward Denham and Clara. He was pressing her up against the wall, and she had her hands…good Lord! Was her hand down his trousers? Charlotte gave an inadvertent squeak, and turned and ran back around the corner, hoping against hope that they had neither heard nor seen her. Her heart was pounding, and for a few moments, the only thought she could form was ‘ _Eeeeww’._ The whole sex-in-public thing was _not_ her cup of tea. Once her brain began to kick in, she realized how strange a pair Edward and Clara made. When they had all met at the bakery, Edward seemed almost to ignore her, and she had spoken pretty disparagingly of him. Maybe it was all a front, and they were seeing each other on the DL? But why hide it, and then start going at it against the wall at a public event? No matter how she looked at it, it just didn’t add up.

Charlotte went back into the ballroom, and was relieved to be asked to dance almost immediately. She danced a few dances with some very nice strangers, who were really enjoying their Regency role play, and she was able to slip back into the character she’d created for herself. Needing a bit of a break, but not wanting to leave, she risked exploring again. She was waylaid by Edward Denham before she got very far. What was with this guy? How was he everywhere?

“Ah, Miss Heywood,” he drawled, putting on a really phony ‘high society’ accent. “Tonight, I am Sir Edward Denham, Baronet Denham, and it would give me the greatest pleasure to dance with you.” She reluctantly accepted, not wanting to make a big deal out of earlier. Had he seen her? She really hoped not.

“I would like to say…about what you saw earlier,” he began, almost as soon as the dance started. “Well, what you thought you saw…”

Well, that sure answered her question. Crap. She tried to head off the conversation. “It’s none of my business,” she said quickly.

“But I’m anxious that you don’t get the wrong idea,” he continued, unwilling to let the subject drop. “I was… _distressed_ , and Miss Brereton was trying her best to… _comfort_ me. You understand.”

 _‘Oh please,’_ Charlotte thought. ‘ _Is that what you’re calling it?’_ Did he really think she was that naïve? “You really don’t need to explain yourself to me. Really.” Charlotte hoped he wasn’t going to continue. This was getting more uncomfortable by the second.

“But you won’t say anything to anyone?” he pressed. Apparently, he was going to continue. Couldn’t he see how little she wanted to be having this discussion?

“Do you really think I would?” she countered. Honestly, who gave a crap if Edward and Clara wanted to frisk each other in a hallway? She sure didn’t. She hardly knew either of them!

“No, of course not. You’re too good and pure to gossip. I can tell that about you.”

Charlotte didn’t reply, and barely kept herself from rolling her eyes at him. This was preposterous. He was preposterous. Luckily, the dance separated them, and she didn’t have to give him any kind of answer. She pushed Edward out of her mind, and fell into the moment and the music. She was not Charlotte Heywood, urban planner grad with no future plans. She was Charlotte Heywood, of the Willingden Heywoods, and she was making her society debut.

When the dance ended, she found a spot at the edge of the ballroom to catch her breath and sip some wine. Within moments, Clara Brereton had sidled right up to her. ‘ _Not again,’_ Charlotte thought, and steeled herself for the next several minutes of unpleasantness. ‘ _Can’t I just tattoo ‘_ Leave me out of this’ _on my forehead?’_

“Can we talk?” Clara asked hesitantly. She seemed just as uncomfortable as Charlotte, which was marginally better than Edward’s phony suaveness. Really, the guy was obviously sleezy. What did she see in him?

“Of course,” Charlotte said, keeping her expression neutral. There was definitely something more going on here, if both Edward and Clara felt the need to seek her out.

“I saw you dancing with Edward. Did he say anything about…earlier?”

“Yes,” Charlotte admitted.

“What did he say?”

Charlotte was starting to feel like she was back in Grade 7. If Clara asked her to pass Edward a note for her, she was leaving. “He said that he was distressed, and that you were trying to comfort him.” Charlotte didn’t quite manage to keep the skepticism from her voice, and Clara flushed slightly.

“He…he was forcing himself on me,” Clara confided, her eyes locked on Charlotte’s. Charlotte’s mouth dropped open.

“Are you serious? Clara, you need to report that!”

“What’s the point? He’s a Denham of Sanditon. I’m nobody. No one would ever believe me.”

“But he can’t just get away with that. What if you’re not the first girl he’s accosted?”

“It wasn’t _quite_ like that. It would probably end up sounding consensual…I bet you thought it was. But I had to do…that…in order to keep him at bay. I didn’t want to, but I did agree to it. I don’t think I can report that.”

Charlotte’s brain was whirling. For sure, it really had looked consensual, and maybe Clara was right that there was nothing to report. It left a bad taste in Charlotte’s mouth, though. “Why, though? I mean, I know there are guys like that everywhere, but…why?”

“He’s been coming on to me for ages,” Clara told her. “Only when my aunt isn’t around. I think he’s trying to find something to, I don’t know, blackmail me with or something. Anything to put me on Aunt Agatha’s bad side.”

“Ugh. I can’t believe he’s _that_ kind of guy,” Charlotte said, totally disgusted.

“He is. Be careful around him, Charlotte. He can’t be trusted.”

Charlotte promised to keep her guard up, but wasn’t able to say anything more. Mr. Crowe approached them, and asked Clara for another dance. She flashed a bright smile- it had to be fake, given the subject they’d just been discussing- and agreed. She gave Charlotte a weirdly out of place wink, and followed Crowe onto the dance floor. Charlotte decided that she needed to go find someplace to gather her thoughts, where she couldn’t be surprised by any more of Sanditon’s peculiar locals. She ended up finding a balcony overlooking the dance floor. She was so focused on watching the twirling dancers, and the glittering light of the chandeliers, that she didn’t notice that there was already someone standing there. He turned towards her, and she realized that it was Sidney Parker. _‘Crap,’_ she thought, ‘ _I hope he doesn’t think I’m stalking him, or something.’_ “I’m so sorry,” she said out loud. “I didn’t realize anyone else was here.” She started to turn to leave again, but he stopped her.

“It’s okay,” he said, although he wondered how someone could fail to see a six-foot tall man on a small balcony. He had been watching her dance, though he told himself he was watching all of the dancers. There was a liveliness to her that kept drawing his attention. She seemed to be having so much _fun_ , but in a wholly innocent way that he only ever felt when he was hanging out with Tom’s kids. He couldn’t think of another grown woman who seemed so genuinely wholesome, or who made that wholesomeness seem intriguing. He glanced at her, wondering what she was thinking about, with such a contemplative expression. “Penny for your thoughts, Miss Heywood?”

“Oh! I was just thinking,” Charlotte replied, startled that he should ask. ‘ _Of course you were thinking, you ninny,’_ she admonished herself. Why was she so tongue-tied? “I was just thinking how very hard it is to understand some people.”

He turned towards her, wondering who she was trying to understand. It didn’t sound like flirtation, but then again, maybe she was just bad at flirting. “And did anyone in particular provoke that thought?”

“People in general,” she replied, unwilling to gossip about what she had seen earlier. “I like to entertain myself by making up backstories for people, and then seeing how close I was when I actually get to know them.” She smiled sheepishly, a little embarrassed for having shared that. “But in a place like Sanditon, where so many strangers mingle freely, and people are likely playing a role of some kind, it’s hard to separate truth from fiction. People can be so hard to figure out, don’t you think?”

“And what have you figured out about me, in the few hours you’ve known me?” He rested his hand on the balcony, and gave a small smile, curious how she would answer. If she _was_ trying to flirt, she would probably start gushing with some compliments and try to flatter him. This should be interesting.

“I think,” Charlotte said, with a small smile of her own, “that you must be the practical brother of the three.”

“Oh, the practical brother!” he repeated, smiling more genuinely. It was definitely not what he was expecting, and he was having more fun talking to this girl than he had anticipated. “And what makes you say that?” Oh, Jeez, he wasn’t actually _fishing_ for compliments from her, was he?

“Well, I may be wrong,” she began, taking heart from the flash of dimple and the fact that he’d actually asked her to elaborate, “but it seems to me that your younger brother Arthur lacks any kind of drive or ambition. He seems content to just fumble through this period of his life, letting his older sister make the important decisions for him. And your elder brother, Tom, might be called overly ambitious. I’m afraid that despite his warm, friendly personality, he’s bitten off more than he can chew with his plans and passionate devotion to Sanditon, and that his wife and children end up a little neglected as a result. Am I right?” She looked up at him, surprised at how strongly she wished for him to admire her perception. He was looking down at the throngs of people, and when he looked back at her, she was shocked into silence by the cold look on his face. When he finally spoke, it was obvious that she had seriously pissed him off.

“Who the hell do you think you are?” he said, fighting to keep his tone measured.

Charlotte’s lips parted in surprise. “I’m sorry…I didn’t mean…”

He cut her off. “And what do you base these ‘backstories’ of yours on? Where have you been? University, I’m guessing. But what have you really learned? Nothing, it would seem. You’ve probably just graduated, with your shiny new degree and a few courses in psychology under your belt, and you think you now understand the big, bad world and everyone in it. You think you’re qualified to judge and criticize?” His voice began to rise, and the blaze of contempt in his tone and expression made her cheeks burn with shame. She tried again to speak, but he kept going. “Let me put it to you this way…which is the better way to live? To waste your time working whatever job your father’s friends can get you, until you find some guy to marry you and give you a couple kids, or to expend your energy trying to actually make a difference. To leave your mark, to leave a legacy that will last 200 years while honouring your roots. _That_ is what my brother Tom is trying to do, at the expense of a huge amount of effort and anxiety. It’s a good cause, and I do my best to support and help him…and you…you think it’s okay to criticize that? To amuse yourself at his expense?”

Charlotte blinked back tears, trying as hard as she could not to cry. She was horrified at the direction this conversation had taken, and how wrong her comments had come out. Her tears were part shame and part fury, that this stranger thought it okay to lecture and berate her as though she were a child. He didn’t even know her! “I’m sorry,” she managed to get out. “I didn’t mean to offend you. Please forgive me.” She swallowed, fighting for composure. She refused to cry in front of this man.

“No, you haven’t offended me. I’m the one at fault.” His tone was suddenly gentler, and his expression less harsh. Charlotte’s shoulders dropped with relief. Clearly he regretted the way he had spoken to her. His eyes searched hers, and she thought that perhaps they could find a way to smooth this over after all, and start over. She was completely unprepared for what he said next. “I shouldn’t have expected so much from a girl who can’t distinguish between Jane Austen and the real world. Excuse me.” He walked away without a backwards glance, and Charlotte was left reeling.

She clutched the railing behind her, as his cruel words rang in her ears. What the hell just happened? Once minute, she could have sworn he was starting to soften towards her, and the next he was ripping her to shreds. _To waste your time working whatever job your father’s friends can get you, until you find some guy to marry you and give you a couple kid_ s. Who the hell did he think _he_ was? He didn’t know the first thing about her, and her own dreams. He couldn’t even be bothered to ask. He just assumed that she was, what? Some vapid nitwit trying to coast her way through life? 

_What have you really learned? Nothing, it would seem._

The music and murmurs below her were suddenly overwhelmingly loud. She felt as though she couldn’t breathe, and she could tell that the tears were going to come after all. She had to get out of there, before anyone saw her. She darted through the crowd, keeping her head down so that no one could see her tear-streaked face. She would not give that jackass the satisfaction of knowing that he’d successfully made her cry. She didn’t realize that he had already left the ball, too pissed off to stay and do the whole ‘gentleman’ act. She made it to the women’s bathroom, which was mercifully empty. She splashed her face with cold water, and looked at herself critically in the mirror. Her eyes were wet, but she hadn’t cried enough yet for them to be red and puffy. She should be able to get herself home with no one the wiser. Taking a deep breathe or twelve, she left the bathroom and headed for the exit. She made it home without having to talk to anyone else, and she raced up the stairs to her flat. She would be okay. Some jerk yelling at her wasn’t worth her time. She didn’t even know the guy, so his opinion didn’t matter.

She repeated this to herself over and over, as she crossed the flat and went into her room. She stopped, looking at herself in the full-length mirror. Only a few hours ago, she had looked at herself in her special new dress, with her accessories and fancy hair, and felt like she had stepped into a dream. Now, she looked at her reflection, at the 19th century Charlotte staring back at her, and felt like an idiot _. I shouldn’t have expected so much from a girl who can’t distinguish between Jane Austen and the real world._ The tears began to fall. She couldn’t stop them, and she stopped fighting the urge to try. Alone in her room, she sat down on her bed, buried her face in her hands, and sobbed.


	6. The Morning After

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know, I know, the last chapter was harsh. Don't hate me. Charlotte gets a little bit of her own back in this one, though, so I hope you'll forgive me. And I do promise that Sidney will improve as we go along. He just hasn't found his inspiration yet. :-)

Charlotte wasn’t usually an early riser, but she had slept so badly after the ball that she was awake and restless way earlier than usual. It was a spectacular morning, the sky flawlessly blue and the water sparkling so invitingly, and Charlotte felt inspired to go for an early morning swim. Maybe some fresh air and a bracing swim would be what she needed to clear away the remnants of last night.

The more she thought about that awful conversation on the balcony, the more guilty she felt. At first, she was full of righteous anger at Sidney Parker. He had no right to speak to her that way, and he had been so _mean_ in telling her off. But once she started reflecting on what she had said, she realized that she really had crossed a line. He had asked her why she thought he was the ‘practical brother’, and she took that as permission to go off on a rant about his closest relatives. She could have said a dozen different things, none of which had to include essentially calling Arthur a lazy bum or Tom a monomaniac. She was really ashamed of herself. He had every right to be angry with her- even if he didn’t have the right to express it the way that he had. The first fault was hers. She would have to find some way to apologize. But first, she’d go for a swim. Wallowing in guilt and misery just wasn’t her style.

Walking back from the beach, her wet hair streaming down her back, she thought she saw Sidney up ahead, walking in her direction. Maybe this would be her chance to apologize. The timing was pretty perfect, and there was no one else around to overhear. They could each apologize for their role in last night’s unpleasantness, and then wipe the slate clean. She began rehearsing in her mind the words she wanted to say, and made sure that she had a pleasant smile on her face as he got close enough to see her.

But he never did see her. Or, more accurately, he refused to see her. As they got within speaking distance, he turned his head away, studying the shoreline as he walked right past her. She didn’t believe for a minute that he hadn’t seen her, or recognized her, or that he found the ocean so absorbing a sight. He was avoiding her! Seriously? How immature was this guy? She couldn’t help glancing back over her shoulder at him, stunned that he would actually pretend not to notice her standing three feet in front of him. For a moment, her frustration with him overrode her guilt, and she started thinking that maybe he didn’t deserve an apology after all. But then she started giving him the benefit of the doubt- m Maybe he had slept as badly as she had, and needed to get into a better frame of mind. Maybe he was still really pissed off at her, and not ready to own up to his part. She would try to find an opportunity later in the day. She had become too friendly with his family to think that they could avoid each other forever, and she really didn’t want his siblings to notice any friction between them. The sooner they could let bygones be bygones, the better. Then she could go back to enjoying her vacation, and he could go back to whatever it was he did in London. She had already given him too much of her brain space.

“Charlotte!” Startled, Charlotte looked around for who might be calling her. “Charlotte, over here!”

It was Arthur, waving at her enthusiastically. She grinned and waved back, and picked up her pace to go join him. “Hi, Arthur! What’s up?”

“Not much. I’m not working until later today, so I thought I’d go explore the booths and festival stuff.”

“I wouldn’t have taken you for a morning person,” Charlotte commented. Unlike his idiot brother, Arthur didn’t take any offense or construe insult where none was meant.

“I don’t dislike mornings,” he said, with a cheeky smile, “as long as I don’t have to wake up early to go _do_ something. When my time is my own, I love to be out and about for as much of it as possible. I’m not as lazy as I seem, you know.” Charlotte flushed a bit, and hoped he didn’t notice. His offhand comment about himself came a little too close to the observations she had expressed to Sidney.

“Want some company?” she asked. “I’m not really in a solo mood, but I totally get it if you are.”

“Nah, I love people. The more, the merrier, I say! Speaking of, wasn’t the ball awesome last night? I had so much fun being in costume! And I like any party where servers keep giving me wine.”

“It was really beautiful,” Charlotte answered, picking her words carefully. ‘Awesome’ was not how she felt about that ball. “The costumes were spectacular, and the music…it was like going back in time.”

“Yeah,” Arthur gave a contented little sigh. “But I don’t think I would actually have liked being a guy back then. I’m the third son, right? So I would probably have been shipped off into the army or navy or- shudder- the church. The girls had the best deal. They got to sit around on the sofas, drinking tea and embroidering. Their only job was to be dainty hothouse flowers. That’s way more my speed. I think I would have blossomed with the best of them,” he added, with an exaggerated flourish of his hands. Charlotte laughed.

“I think I would have been bored to tears,” she confessed, “if all I had to do was sit around, playing piano, and waiting for some guy to marry me. We would have to reverse roles, I think. You could blossom, and I would work. Deal?”

“Deal!” Arthur said, stopping in the middle of the sidewalk to shake her hand emphatically. “But only if I would still be allowed to drink port wine. I don’t want any of that watered down crap they gave to the women! Bring on the good stuff!” Charlotte laughed again. Arthur offered his arm, and Charlotte linked hers through his. “So where shall we go explore, my lady?”

“I know I asked to join you, but I just realized that I’m still in my beach clothes,” Charlotte replied. “I’m hardly looking very ladylike at the moment, and definitely not worthy of being seen with your fine self.” Arthur struck a GQ pose. “Would you mind giving me 5 minutes to change? I’ll be super quick, I promise.”

“Sure, no prob,” Arthur agreed, dropping his exaggerated manners, and they walked in the direction of the Terrace. “You can’t be my arm candy looking like that. And I think I deserve some arm candy. Or just some real candy. Is it too early to go find something chocolate?”

“Arthur, it is _never_ too early for something chocolate. Isn’t there a cake stall set up somewhere?”

“Oooh, yes. I like how you think! That’s our plan. We’re going to explore some Regency confections. And since I’m the blossom, _you’re_ buying.” Charlotte burst out laughing, and agreed that it would be her treat. Arthur was so much fun. She felt like she could just be herself around him. They had reached the Terrace, and Arthur opted to wait outside and people-watch while she got ready. She flew up the stairs, and changed as quickly as she could, opting for a cheerful blue and yellow sundress. A shower would have to wait, so she bundled her hair into a messy bun, and added a pair of blue dangly earrings and some lip gloss so that she wouldn’t look a total mess. She had promised arm candy, after all. She raced back down the stairs, and found Arthur lounging against the side of her building, talking to a _really_ cute guy she’d never seen before.

“Sorry to keep you waiting, Arthur,” Charlotte said, a little breathless from her dash downstairs. “I tried to be quick.”

“No worries,” Arthur said cheerfully. “James, have you met my new favourite person yet? This is Charlotte. She’s staying for a month, or so she says.”

“Nice to meet you, Charlotte,” James said. “Aren’t you liking Sanditon?”

“I love it!” Charlotte replied. “I’m not sure why Arthur doesn’t think I’ll stay the full month.” She gaze Arthur a quizzical look. He just grinned, looking like a mischievous cherub.

“Oh, I didn’t say you’d leave early,” Arthur clarified. “I don’t think you’ll be able to tear yourself away.”

“Silly boy,” Charlotte said, but the fondness in her voice was unmistakable. “I do have a life to get back to. I can’t stay in vacation mode forever.”

“What is it you do?” James asked politely, and Charlotte gave him the condensed version of her recent degree acquisition. Most people were not very interested in understanding what urban planning actually was, but this guy surprised her. Turns out that he was in the hospitality and tourism field, and therefore paid more attention than most people to what made a town or city interesting and sustainable.

“Do you work at the resort, then?” Charlotte asked. James explained that he used to work at the resort, but had recently been hired by Tom to manage the Regency Fair and summer tourism projects. He and Charlotte carried on a very animated conversation for several minutes, while Arthur pretended to pay attention, but instead continued with his people-watching. He straightened up suddenly, and called out “Sidney! Hey, Sidney!” He excused himself, and crossed the street to where Sidney was walking with Crowe and Babington. Charlotte glanced at Sidney surreptitiously, trying to figure out if he looked more approachable now. Would he acknowledge her this time? Based on his body language, it didn’t look like it. Blech. She’d have to go seek him out.

Even though she was really enjoying talking to James, she decided that she might as well get the apology over with and excused herself, just as Sidney was starting to walk away from Arthur. Crap. She picked up her pace, and called his name before he reached his friends. He turned, but she didn’t miss the way his jaw clenched as soon as he saw who she was.

“Hey, Parker, do you have a minute?” she asked. At least he wasn’t rude enough to ignore her now that he’d obviously seen her. He stopped walking, but didn’t say anything. Ok, so he was still angry. _‘Just say your piece and move along,’_ Charlotte told herself. ‘ _You got this._ ’ She took a deep breath.

“About our conversation, at the ball…I just wanted to say that I expressed myself badly, and I think you misunderstood me.” She paused, looking up at him in the hopes for some indication that he was relenting, but he looked more bored than anything else. She bravely continued. “I didn’t mean to criticize your brother. Either of them. They’ve been nothing but kind to me, and I really respect what Tom is doing here. But it came out wrong, and you were totally right to be mad at me. I’m really sorry. I hope you don’t think the worst of me.” She looked up at him, hoping to see some sign of…something. The guy was like a statue.

And then the statue blinked, and finally spoke. “Think the worst of you?” he repeated, with an ironic little smirk. “I don’t think about you at all. I don’t care if you like me, or don’t. Honestly, I don’t give a damn what you think, or how you feel. Sorry if that disappoints you, honey, but there it is. Is that clear enough for you?”

“Crystal,” Charlotte said through clenched teeth. Oh, the nerve of this guy! Was it so hard for him to be polite, for the sake of it? She looked away for a moment, and then looked back at him. “But I do wonder, _honey_ , if you really don’t care, why you made such an effort to be a jackass about it. Or maybe it just comes effortlessly to you.” She turned on her heel, and strode away, keeping her head high. She was _not_ going to slink away in tears again. She didn’t turn back, and therefore didn’t know that she’d left him stunned, watching her walk away with his mouth agape. He shut his mouth, and irritably stalked off in the opposite direction in search of his friends. Charlotte rejoined Arthur, doing her best to disguise her outrage. She didn’t want him to notice that she was upset, because she didn’t think she’d be able to hold back her real opinion of his brother. It wasn’t Arthur’s fault that he was related to such a jerk. They set off in search of the cake stall, and Charlotte was determined to enjoy the rest of her day. But first, she _really_ needed something chocolate.


	7. Picnics and Pineapples

Charlotte had just gotten out of the shower the next morning, when she heard her phone buzz. Hearing it reminded her that she owed Alison an email. She hadn’t gotten around to sending her an update about the Assembly ball yet, mostly because she had been too upset about how it ended. Part of her really wanted to vent about Sidney “High and Mighty” Parker, but she knew that Alison would take it the wrong way if Charlotte’s email was all about some guy she’d met on vacation. The last thing she needed was Alison convinced that Charlotte was into him. When she checked her phone, though, it turned out to be a text from Mary.

 _Hi Charlotte! Are you planning on going to the picnic in Sanditon Park? I’m packing a huge basket, and have more than enough for you to join us._ Charlotte smiled at her phone. That was so like Mary, to think of including her in their picnic. She was about to send her reply, when she received three texts from Arthur, one after the other.

_Charlotte! Picnic! 11:00!_

_You’re sitting with us Parkers. No arguing._

_Ask Tom about the pineapples. You’ll make his day._

Charlotte laughed out loud, and sent him a quick text back. _Ok, ok, I’ll be there. I was about to text Mary back anyway._ All she got back as a response were three pineapple emojis. She was starting to become pretty curious about these pineapples. She managed to fire off her text to Mary, and then checked the weather, to help her decide what to wear. No skirts or dresses today, she thought. She went with a pair of denim-coloured palazzo pants, with a light purple fitted tee. She suddenly realized that sitting with the Parkers might mean having to endure Sir Asshat’s company, and decided to add some feminine armour to help her project confidence. She wouldn’t be surprised if he were extra jerk-tastic towards her, after yesterday’s interaction. She braided her hair into a French braid, to add a little class, and added a silver pendant necklace for some personality. Perfect. She checked the time. It was only 10:00am, so she had plenty of time to have a coffee, and figure out what to tell Alison- and what not to tell her- before heading for the park.

Sanditon Park was one of the prettiest parts of the area. From what Charlotte had learned, it had once been the grounds of Sanditon House, and some of the majestic trees were still standing from that era. Mary told her that deer still lived in the woods, but that the increase in human population meant that they were rarely seen during the day. Charlotte hadn’t yet managed to go walking in the park during the early morning hours when the deer tended to come out. There was a large clearing on the outer edge of the park, which was much newer and had a large play structure, and this was where the picnic was being held. Charlotte saw several blankets spread out by the time she arrived, as well as an area a bit further off with lawn bowling and Battledore and Shuttlecock. There were a number of tables set up on one side, but she couldn’t quite tell what was on them. She looked about for the Parkers, and spotted Arthur waving at her enthusiastically. She waved back, and walked over to their blanket. Well, three blankets, actually. There were a lot of them to all fit on just one, even if the kids were more likely to be on the play structure than sitting down.

“Hi everyone!” Charlotte said cheerfully, as she plopped herself down next to Arthur. She had seen instantly that ‘everyone’, thankfully, did not include the middle Parker brother. Maybe he had already left for London, and she wouldn’t have to deal with him again. “What’s this I hear about pineapples?”

“Real subtle, Charlotte,” Arthur murmured.

“You never told me to be subtle,” she murmured back. 

“Pineapples are very rich in vitamin C and manganese,” Diana responded. “I use them in several of my smoothie recipes, because they also are loaded with anti-oxidants and help digestion. I’ve read that they are also considered anti-inflammatory and immunity-boosting.” She went on for several moments, extolling the health benefits of this magical-sounding fruit, before finally ending with, “I am so glad you arranged to have the pineapple tasting today, Tom. What a nice way to make sure everyone takes care of their health.” Charlotte didn’t think that this was why Arthur wanted her to ask about pineapples, but the moment to ask Tom passed. He had spotted someone walking towards the park, and had gotten up to go speak with them. Charlotte’s stomach dropped when she saw that it was his other brother and his two cronies. Charlotte got up and walked towards the tables, to check out what was on them, so that she didn’t have to deal with him just yet.

The tables were laden with platters and platters of…pineapple chunks. The tablecloth was decorated with a pineapple print, and there were pineapple themed plates and napkins. Charlotte had never seen so much pineapple in one place.

“What’s with all the stupid pineapple?”

For a moment, Charlotte was horrified that she might have spoken out loud. Then she realized that the question had come from the young woman standing next to her, the famous Miss Lambe. Charlotte met her eyes, and bit back a smile. She wouldn’t have said it so rudely, but she was pretty much thinking the same thing.

“I was told to ask Tom Parker. I think there is some kind of story here,” Charlotte replied.

“Pineapples aren’t even native to England. I bet they didn’t even know pineapples existed two hundred years ago.”

“Actually, miss, the first pineapple in Sanditon made its appearance exactly two hundred years ago,” the acerbic tones of Mrs. Denham replied. Both young women turned to look at her.

“How do you know?” Georgiana asked. She looked at Mrs. Denham skeptically, and Charlotte began to feel a little embarrassed being next to her. She tried to soften the antagonistic vibe by asking Mrs. Denham more politely to tell them more.

“I was going to ask Tom Parker about the pineapples, Mrs. Denham, but perhaps you know the story?” she asked. Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed various Parkers making their way towards the table. Maybe reinforcements would help turn this conversation around.

“Of course I know!” the old woman responded. “It’s part of the Denham family lore. Lady Mary Denham, widow to Sir Harry Denham, hosted a luncheon and pineapple tasting in July 1819. The pineapple had been specially cultivated for her in a conservatory here in England, and was brought to Sanditon in honour of a wealthy heiress from Antigua, who had recently arrived in the area.”

“That’s it? She served a pineapple to some rich chick, and now it’s a piece of family history? Who did she serve her first watermelon to?” Georgiana asked. Arthur chuckled behind her, but Mary elbowed him before he said anything.

“Well, there’s a bit more to the story,” Tom interjected, “at least in the version passed down through the Parkers. It seems that Lady Mary not only insulted her guest of honour with some comments about her mother, but that the pineapple itself turned out to be rotten. The luncheon was an absolute disaster. It’s become a Parker family tradition in later generations to have a pineapple tasting every summer in commemoration.”

Georgiana shrugged, took a plate of pineapple, and walked off without another word. Mrs. Denham gave one of her signature “hmphs” and did the same. Charlotte was left standing with the Parkers, and was curious enough to keep asking questions. “What happened to the heiress?”

“If I remember correctly,” Tom replied, his forehead furrowing, “she stayed in Sanditon for two years or so. She was the ward of one of the Parker brothers, but she left the area as soon as she reached her majority and had control of her fortune. I don’t know what became of her after that.” It didn’t surprise Charlotte that Tom didn’t remember what happened to her after leaving Sanditon, and wondered if he had ever bothered to learn. She was surprised, though, when the various Parkers each took some pineapple and went back to the blankets, and she found herself standing alone with Sidney. She was even more surprised when he actually spoke to her.

“So, what entertaining backstories have you created for everyone here?” he asked, placing several chunks of pineapple onto a plate, and handing it to her. She wasn’t sure which astonished her more- his polite tone of voice, or that he served her pineapple. She wasn’t going to be fooled again, though. The last time she thought he was softening towards her and let her guard down, he’d blasted her right between the eyes. She rolled her eyes a little before replying, in a tone equally polite,

“Since you don’t give a damn what I think, I won’t bore you with them, Parker.”

He paused the slightest nanosecond, before giving her a hint of a smile and looking at her, straight in the eyes. “But I’m sure you’ve thought of a few anyway. Come on, tell me.”

“No way,” she answered, narrowing her eyes. What games was he playing? He seemed almost flirtatious now…did he really think she would fall for that? “You’ve chewed me out twice already, and you don’t get a third chance. Go inflict your nastiness on someone else.” He looked away from her, and she was incensed to see that he seemed a little amused. “Or, better yet,” she continued, her voice bright and cheerful, “why not try being _nice_ to people?” He looked at her again.

“Hmmm,” he said. Was that a smile or a grimace? She really couldn’t read this guy at all. “You make a good point.” He met her gaze again, and this time she was convinced he was trying to make _her_ soften. “Maybe I will.”

“Oh, please,” Charlotte replied, her tone disgusted. “I didn’t mean with me.” She walked off with her pineapple, and didn’t give him another thought. For the second time, she left Sidney Parker standing speechless, with his mouth open, and didn’t even know it.

Sidney watched her walk away, admiring both the view and her feistiness. Sparring with Charlotte Heywood left him feeling surprisingly energized, even though she clearly had made up her mind not to like him. He told himself that he should be relieved, since his entire goal had been to make sure that she wasn’t weaving some romantic nonsense around him. Relief, however, was not what he was feeling. Crazy as it seemed, she’d somehow turned the tables on him, and now he was the one feeling rejected. When was the last time a woman rejected him? Other than Eliza, who didn’t count, because she was a succubus. He hadn’t had to work for a woman’s approval in a very long time, mostly because they didn’t look past his face or body to the man underneath. He’d assumed that Charlotte was no different, but he was very aware right now that he’d been wrong. She had clearly seen past his surface, and he was in doubt anymore that she found him lacking.

He’d realized yesterday, after being called a jackass, that he’d overdone it a bit. There was a line between being distant and being cruel, and he’d crossed it twice. Yesterday he hadn’t even had the justification of anger. She had stood there, with those huge and hopeful eyes, and he’d felt…something. Whatever that something was, it had terrified him, and so he’d lashed out. When he saw that they were the only ones left at the pineapple table, he thought it would be the right opportunity to smooth things over. Maybe he should have just apologized, but that would have invited a conversation about feelings. No thanks. A light-hearted conversation would have been perfect- he’d show that he could be polite, she would realize he wasn’t a jackass, and then they’d go their separate ways. But she was making him work much harder for it than he’d anticipated.

For a brief moment, Sidney wondered if maybe she was playing mind games with him, and if this was her way of making him chase her. He hated mind games, and had no problem walking away from even the hottest girl if he thought she was playing them. The thought only lasted a moment, though. He didn’t get the feeling that Charlotte was either that kind of girl, or that good an actress. Her disgust was obvious, and genuine. She really didn’t like him, and he was uneasily aware that her opinion of him seemed to matter.

Hearing his name, Sidney had the equally uncomfortable realization that he had just been standing by himself, holding a plate of pineapple, thinking about Charlotte Heywood. Forcing her out of his mind, he walked back to Crowe and Babington. He loved his family, but he could not go sit with them right now. He needed the comforting idiocy of his friends, and a drink.

* * *

The drinks weren’t helping. After the picnic, Sidney and his friends had gone off in search of a few rounds of pool and beer. He hadn’t said anything about Charlotte, because that would make her too important, but her name kept popping up anyway. It was all Crowe’s fault. The more he drank, the more vulgar he got, and this afternoon was no exception.

“Hey, Babbers, you gonna go after that redhead? Esther? I saw you checking her out,” Crowe said suddenly.

Babbers missed his shot. “She’s cute,” was all he said.

“But cold, man. You’re not really going to try to thaw that ice queen, are you?”

“She’s not an ice queen. She’s deliciously disdainful. I love it.”

“Saucy bitch,” Crowe said with a laugh. “Now she’s sounding more interesting. But she’s not my type. I like them warm and feisty. Like that little brunette…Charlotte?” Sidney gave Crowe a sideways glance, but said nothing. He debated warning Crowe off her, but that would make it sound like his was marking his own territory. “Or that Georgiana Lambe. You can tell she’d be fierce in the sack.”

“Don’t even think about it, Crowe,” Sidney said, more forcefully than he meant. Crowe and Babber both looked at him in surprise.

“Don’t take that tone with me, Sidney,” Crowe spat back. “I’m just messing around.”

“I mean it,” Sidney said, forcing Crowe to look him in the eyes. Crowe looked a little sheepish.

“Ok, ok, got it,” he said. He was all too familiar with Sidney’s temper, and some girl he didn’t even know wasn’t worth the fight. He cleared his throat, and asked in a light tone, “But if a guy can ask, without getting his head bitten off, what’s the deal with you two?”

Sidney sighed. “Her father lives overseas, and my firm handles all his dealings. I’m simply the trustee for her trust fund, and she hates that I actually follow the fund’s stipulations and don’t just hand her money every time she asks. She misses her home, hates English weather, and thinks that being able to host crazy parties for her idiot friends would make everything better.”

“And she doesn’t like you very much?” Babington concluded.

Sidney nodded, and took a pull from his beer. “Pretty much argues with everything I say or do, even if I’m not the one who made these rules. She got into a spot of trouble in London, and I arranged for her to do her community service here instead. She acts like I had her sent to the farthest corner of the Earth. But she’s safer here than in London. Anything can happen there.”

“Anything can happen anywhere,” Crowe countered, which Sidney had to agree with. He had no doubt that Georgiana would find her way into some mischief or other, even in Sanditon. He suggested another round of drinks, and volunteered to go get them, just as Tom walked into the bar. Crowe and Babington took one look at his expression, and decided to go get the drinks instead, leaving Tom and Sidney alone for a few minutes.

As soon as they got up to the bar, Crowe started flirting with a couple of girls standing there, but Babington turned back to watch Sidney and his brother. Obviously, he couldn’t hear them, but he could easily tell from their body language that Tom was tense and Sidney was frustrated. Poor Sidney, he thought. Even though his friend was pretty tight-lipped about family stuff, Babington was perceptive enough to pick up that Tom put a lot of pressure on Sidney to help him out with his Sanditon ventures. He wondered if Tom truly understood or appreciated just how much Sidney really did for him, but the more he thought about it, the more he doubted whether Tom even knew. Sidney was more of a doer than a talker, and he definitely didn’t brag about his successes. One of the girls next to them started talking to Babington, and he gave her his attention, despite his lack of interest. She was cute enough, but he had developed a very specific preference for redheads…or perhaps a preference for a very specific redhead. Still, she was fun to talk to, and he was distracted enough to be surprised when he found Sidney standing beside him. Sidney handed him some bills, and said that he was going out for some fresh air. It was the last Babington saw him for a while.

* * *

Sidney had considered going back to the resort and using the gym there, but decided to go for a swim in the ocean. He didn’t want to be around other people, but a good hard workout was just what he needed, to get his frustration with Tom out of his mind. He just never got it! No matter how many times Sidney tried to explain that promoting Sanditon was a delicate business, and that you couldn’t lecture, harangue or bully people into wanting to spend their money there, Tom always seemed to think that if he could just talk to this person or that one, that they would simply open their wallets and invest. He always said that he counted on Sidney’s business acumen and connections, and then overrode every piece of advice that Sidney gave. After every time, Sidney told himself that it wasn’t really his problem, and that he would leave Tom to manage himself. And every time, he agreed to whatever new demand Tom had. At the end of the day, Tom was family, and he just couldn’t turn his back on family.

It didn’t occur to him until he got to his favourite quiet little cove, that he wasn’t wearing swim trunks. He considered going back to change, but…people. Nope, not worth running into people. He weighed the odds of being seen, and decided that since few people ever wandered towards this particular cove, he should be safe enough. Besides, swimming naked wasn’t a crime, unless he offended someone, and he didn’t think that was super likely. So he shucked of his clothes, and swam hard until he wasn’t thinking about Tom anymore.

The problem was, as soon as his brain left off thinking about Tom, it went back to thinking about Charlotte Heywood. Especially since his body was naked, and there was something about her that made it very easy to think about being naked. She might be infuriating, but she was really sexy. And weirdly, he didn’t think she knew that. He didn’t know many women who were that attractive and seemed genuinely unaware of it. But those lips, that body…she was a walking fantasy. At least, until she started talking. She was _not_ shy about sharing her opinions, and she’d managed to find a way to get under his skin more often than not. Still, she was interesting. No, no she was _not_ interesting. Because finding her interest _ing_ was only one short step from being interest _ed_ , and that he was certainly not. She wasn’t his type, and if he kept reminding himself, then sooner or later he would stop thinking about her.

He broke through the surface, wiping the water from his eyes as his feet found purchase…and froze. Standing less than ten feet away, as though he had conjured her, was Charlotte herself. Her eyes grew huge, her jaw dropped open, and she stared for a few seconds before spinning around. He waited for her to walk away, say something, do anything, but she just stood there with her back to him. He wondered how much of him she’d seen, and wished the water weren’t quite so cold. Mostly, he wished he could stop thinking about her.

The awkward silence was just too much, and he said the first thing that popped into his head. “I just can’t seem to get away from you, can I?”

“Parker, trust me, you are the _last_ person I want to see,” she managed to get out. She wasn’t sure what was worse- having the image of his perfect body etched on her retinas, or his insinuation that she was following him around. Ok, definitely the latter. No contest.

Damn, he hadn’t meant to say that out loud. She couldn’t have known that he had just been thinking about her- or that he’d been thinking about her naked. “I shouldn’t have said that. Sorry.”

“Ok, whatever,” Charlotte said. She was too flustered to register that Sidney Parker had just recanted one of his mean comments. “Ummm…I gotta go.” She gave a really awkward backward wave over her shoulder, and started walking away as quickly as she could, until she was sure he couldn’t see her anymore, and then she broke into a run.

For the second time that day, Sidney watched her walk away, but this time he was wondering what she was thinking. A ghost of a smile hovered around his lips. Well, _that_ was unexpected. And he wasn’t sure that he actually minded.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In case you're wondering, all the nutritional facts about pineapples are true (according to Google). And if you're wondering what Charlotte thought about coming across Sidney in that cove, well...that'll be in Chapter 8. :-)


	8. Dark Horse

Charlotte ran along the beach until she ran out of breath. She bent over, hands braced on her thighs, and huffed a few times. She focused her mind on the burning in her lungs, the wind in her hair, the sun on her skin…anything, in short, to keep from thinking about what just happened. She straightened up, taking a deep breath, and letting it out slowly. And then another one. And then a third. And then the image of Sidney Parker rising out of the water, rivulets streaming down his perfectly defined chest and washboard abs hit her like the proverbial ton of bricks. Yeah. That _definitely_ just happened. Even if she had tried to picture him naked before, she would never have conjured up details like body hair, or that interesting ridge of hip bone or…’ _Stop it, Charlotte!’_ she told herself firmly. She tried taking another deep breath, but this time, a giggle started welling up. It was actually pretty funny. Horrifying- she didn’t think she’d ever be able to look him in the eye again- but hilarious, like something out of a movie. “Of all the coves in all the beaches in all of England,” she muttered, in her best Humphrey Bogart voice.

“Are you okay?” a voice asked, scaring the crap out of Charlotte. What was with these beaches? People kept popping up out of nowhere! She gave a little shriek, and spun around to see Georgiana Lambe staring at her from, two feet away.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to startle you,” Georgiana added. “You just looked a little…odd. You alright?”

“Yeah, I’m fine,” Charlotte said quickly. “I just….um…it’s a long story. Let’s just say I saw something unexpected further down the beach.” She swallowed another giggle. “But I’m fine, really. Thanks for asking.”

“I’ve seen a lot of weird crap on this beach,” Georgiana said, indicating the long pronged tool and garbage bag she was holding. “People are disgusting. Cleaning up after them is even more gross.” She made a face.

“You’re Georgiana, right? And you’re here with Mrs. Griffiths’ volunteer group?”

“Yeah,” the other girl replied glumly. “I mean, I’m not exactly a volunteer. But I guess I have to be considered one of them.” Charlotte just raised an eyebrow, and Georgiana explained, “I was voluntold to be here. This would _not_ have been my idea of how to spend my summer. I’m supposed to be at a yacht party right now, and instead I’m stuck in Nowhereshire, picking up trash.”

“I’m sorry,” Charlotte responded, for lack of anything else to say. “You don’t like Sanditon?”

“Who would?” Georgiana replied. “None of my friends are here, and I have to follow Gorgon Griffiths’ stupid rules. She’s like some old-fashioned governess in a boring novel. She even used the phrase ‘sense of propriety’ yesterday, as in, I clearly don’t have one. Who talks like that?”

“I’m sorry,” Charlotte said again. “I didn’t know anyone when I got here, either. The Parkers are a really lovely family, and kinda took me in. But I think you already know one of them?” She couldn’t bring herself to say his name, but she was super curious to learn what Georgiana would say about him.

“Sidney? Yeah, I guess. He’s not, like, a friend or anything. And it’s his fault that I’m stuck here.”

“What do you mean?” Charlotte asked.

“He’s just the suit in charge of my money. Because, you know, having money means that it has to be _managed_ , which really means that I have to be managed.” Georgiana’s voice dripped with disgust. “It’s so stupid. Who cares if I use my money now, instead of when I’m 21? It’s my money, isn’t it?”

“But what does he have to do with your being in Sanditon?” Charlotte asked, confused. She really didn’t have an opinion on Georgiana’s money, and didn’t feel qualified to weigh in on the life of someone she barely knew, but her curiosity about the connection between Sidney and Georgiana was really strong.

“I got in trouble for a stupid little thing in London, and had to do community service. He arranged for me to do it here, cleaning up the beaches, instead of staying in London. He’s so interfering, like he’s somehow my dad’s stand-in, instead of the guy who writes my cheques. He’s the worst.” Georgiana poked the tool into the sand several times, and Charlotte sincerely hoped she wasn’t picturing stabbing Sidney like that. She looked up at Charlotte suddenly. “I bet I sound really spoiled and bratty, don’t I?”

“No, of course not,” Charlotte responded politely. She could hardly say ‘Yes, yes you do’ to a stranger, but she inwardly did think that Georgiana sounded pretty spoiled, and ungrateful. To her, it sounded like Sidney was trying to treat her as a person, not as a bank account or client. But maybe she was missing something.

“What do you think of him?” Georgiana asked out of the blue.

“Who? Sidney?” Charlotte immediately pictured the sunlight shimmering on the water drops sliding down his pecs, and the muscles in his arms as he reached up to wipe his face. She saw the trail of dark hair guiding her eyes downwards. She swallowed hard, and hoped she wasn’t blushing. “Ummm…I don’t really know him,” she answered, hoping to avoid further questions.

“Really? I’ve seen you talking to him a few times,” Georgiana sounded surprised. “I thought I picked up on vibe between you.”

“What?! No…no,” Charlotte stammered. “We don’t get along very well.” She left it at that, and told her treacherous brain that a six-pack and broad shoulders didn’t change anything. Absolutely nothing. He might be built like a Greek god, but those gods were notoriously unstable and unreliable.

“Really? Okay,” Georgiana shrugged, but didn’t really care enough about Sidney’s love life to pursue the topic. She liked the idea that this person didn’t get along with him. To her, it showed a good judge of character. “So, what’s your name again?”

“Charlotte. Charlotte Heywood.”

“Well, Charlotte, you seem to be the first person I’ve met in this dreary place who doesn’t suck. I guess you’re my new best friend. Wanna go get a drink?”

“Can I take a rain cheque?” Charlotte asked. “I was on my way back to my flat.” She gave Georgiana her number, so she wouldn’t feel like she was being brushed off. “Text me, and we’ll find a time to hang out.”

“Cool. Guess I’ll go back to the mesmerizing task of cleaning up this endless stretch of beach. Oh, hey, what was it you saw earlier? If it was that bad, I want to avoid it.”

An intriguing smattering of dark chest hair. Muscles. A lean waist and sun-kissed skin. More muscles. “Oh…nothing worth mentioning,” Charlotte answered. “I’m sure it’s long gone by now.” She said goodbye, and walked slowly back to her flat. It had been nice of Georgiana to invite her out, but Charlotte really needed some peace and quiet. She had gone for a walk on the beach to get exactly that, hoping the beautiful view and serenity of the ocean would help guide her thinking about what would come after her Sanditon vacation ended. Charlotte had been picking up seashells, weighing them in her hand as though they were physical manifestations of her life options, and had ended up getting an entirely different sort of view.

Charlotte hadn’t seen that many naked men in her life- because little brothers didn’t count- but she knew instinctively that she could live a very long time before seeing anyone to rival Sidney Parker in his natural glory. Charlotte suddenly recalled a comment of Mary’s from a couple days back, about women treating him as some sort of trophy, and could now easily see why. The guy might be a jerk, but damn, he was beautiful. He really wasn’t her type at all, but he was objectively gorgeous. It was really a shame for that much masculine beauty to be wasted on a guy like that. Charlotte had the stray thought that if he weren’t such a cretin, if he really did have that soft side and big heart that Mary believed…well, if he were actually _that_ guy, he would be kind of perfect. _‘Don’t be ridiculous, Charlotte,’_ she lectured herself. _‘There are no real-life Darcys._ ’ Weaving any kind of fantasy around Sidney Parker was a bad idea. It wasn’t the only time that evening she had to remind herself of that.

* * *

The sunlight streaming into Sidney Parker’s eyes was as unwelcome as the banging on the door. He blinked his eyes open, rubbing the sleep dust away, and then immediately covered them with his arm to block out the brightness.

“Go away!” he called, his voice coming out rusty and nowhere near as powerfully as intended, but even that made him wince. His head was pounding, and his mouth tasted as though he had been eating sod. “It’s too early!”

“Parker, let us in,” Babington called. “It’s 10:00am already.”

“Told you he’d still be sleeping,” Crowe muttered. “Pathetic.”

Sidney groaned and crawled out of bed. He was still wearing his clothes from yesterday, and he was aware that he looked and smelled awful, but he slowly crossed the room and opened the door. He didn’t bother greeting either of his friends, but just grunted, walked over to the couch, and sat down on it with a groan.

“Oh, Babington, look at him. I’m ashamed to call him my friend,” Crowe teased. “You’d think he was 78, not 28.”

“A pitiful sight, indeed,” Babington agreed.

“Isn’t that what Charlotte Heywood said, when she ran into him yesterday?” Crowe replied. Babington laughed, but Sidney glared at them both.

“I shouldn’t have told you that,” Sidney growled. “It’s your fault, both of you. You called for that fifth round of shots.”

“Blah blah blah,” Crowe said. “Stop whining and go take a shower. You reek. What would Charlotte say if she saw you like this?”

“I don’t give a damn what Charlotte Heywood says or does or thinks or feels. Cut it out.”

“You’d better get used to her,” Babington chimed in. “Now that she got an eyeful of your merchandise, you can bet she’ll be coming back to shop.”

“Don’t be ridiculous, Babbers,” Crowe disputed, as Sidney stood and walked towards the bathroom. “The girl ran away from him. He’ll have to do more than drop his pants to bring that one to heel.”

“I’m not trying to bring her to heel,” Sidney growled, stopping to turn and glare at them again. “I’m not interested.” They ignored him.

“Oh, please, she’ll come panting after him. They always do.”

“Bet five pounds she wants nothing to do with him,” Crowe wagered.

“You’re on,” Babington replied, and the two shook hands on it.

“I hate you both,” Sidney said, and left them to go take his shower, mentally blaming them for his hangover, his headache and his bad mood. And if he thought about Charlotte Heywood at all while he was washing himself, well…that was their fault, too.

* * *

Charlotte walked to the bakery, headphones on, to pick up a cup of coffee for herself and Tom. She had finally got around to offering to help out with the Regency fair, and Tom had gratefully accepted. They had agreed to meet at his offices, so that he could explain the remaining events and attractions and then figure out where Charlotte would be most helpful. She’d volunteered to grab them some coffee, but as soon as she had left the Terrace, she’d realized that leaving the sanctuary of her flat meant running the risk of seeing Sidney. Sanditon was a pretty small town, overall, and the odds of their paths crossing was high. She knew it was silly of her, but she _really_ couldn’t handle the idea of seeing him after yesterday’s chance encounter.

Last night had been the first time since arriving in Sanditon that Charlotte had felt lonely. If only she’d had a girlfriend with her, one that would have laughed with her about the whole cove scenario, then she knew she would have been able to treat it as nothing. But she couldn’t exactly tell Mary that she’d accidentally seen her brother-in-law naked, and Georgiana was both too new a friend and too biased against Sidney. Hardly the right audience. Esther was too cold, and as for Clara…Charlotte had not figured her out enough to feel comfortable telling her something that personal. She seemed like a bit of a gossip, and Charlotte didn’t want to start any rumours, especially not ones that linked her to Sidney. She just wanted a friend to help her make light of an awkward situation. Left to her own devices, Charlotte knew she would never be able to play it cool when she saw him. What did you say to someone that you just happened to see totally nude? Especially someone that you’d never even managed to have a polite conversation with? She really hoped she could just avoid him, and for that reason she had her music on and was scanning the street ahead of her so that she wouldn’t be taken by surprise.

Humming along to Katy Perry’s “Dark Horse”, Charlotte’s vigilance paid off. She spotted Sidney with his two friends a good two minutes before they saw her. Making a show out of looking through her shoulder bag, and then her watch, she looked away from them to check for oncoming traffic and then crossed the street. It took her away from the bakery, which they were walking out of, but it was worth it to not have to look him in the eye. Pretending to be interested in the window display of the shoe store, she could see a hint of their reflection in the window. She saw Crowe laugh and hold out his hand, Babington place something in it, and Sidney flip them the bird. He stalked off down the street, and they laughingly followed him. Charlotte waited a good extra minute, just to be sure they didn’t turn back and see her, and then darted across the street and into the safety of the bakery.

When she emerged a few minutes later, she looked carefully up and down the street before continuing on her way to Tom’s office. She called herself twelve kinds of coward, but she just couldn’t face him yet. Why did performers recommend picturing people in their underwear as a way to get rid of stage nerves? That had to be the dumbest thing she’d ever heard. Sidney was probably a boxer-brief guy, she decided. Not too loose, not too tight, probably made his ass look great… _‘Oh for fuck’s sake, get a grip, Charlotte!’_ she scolded herself. _‘Now you’re picturing him in his underwear.’_ Somehow, that seemed even worse than picturing him at the cove.

Even seeing Tom felt a little embarrassing, as though he would somehow divine what she’d been thinking about his brother. She just couldn’t seem to find her sense of equilibrium again. It felt as though her brain was dividing everything she’d experienced in Sanditon into two categories- Before The Cove and I Saw Sidney Naked.

“Thanks for the coffee, Charlotte,” Tom greeted her with a smile. “How are you doing?”

“Very well, thank you,” she replied. _‘I saw Sidney naked’_ the voice in her head added.

“Still enjoying Sanditon, I hope? What did you do after the pineapple tasting yesterday?”

 _‘I saw Sidney naked,’_ the wicked little voice answered. “Oh, nothing much,” Charlotte said aloud. “Just walked along the beach.

“Anything impressive catch your eye?” he asked, inviting her to sit in one of the armchairs across from his desk.

She blinked at him for a moment too long, sternly telling that little voice to shut up. “Just some seashells,” she answered. ‘ _And I saw Sidney naked,’_ the little voice gleefully added. She took a sip of coffee, and deliberately turned the conversation to Sanditon and the Regency fair. “Have you had any ideas on how I can volunteer and be more involved?”

Tom immediately launched into a full, and long, explanation of everything he had done to prepare for the fair and all the work involved in running it. Charlotte gave him her full attention, as was relieved that the little voice in her head had finally fallen silent. Asking several questions, and weighing some options with Tom, Charlotte suggested that she assist with the cricket, as it seemed to be both the next big event and the one during which Tom needed to be in the most places at once. They got down to business, drawing up a checklist of what Charlotte would be responsible for.

“I have some maps and visuals in the other room,” Tom said. “I think it would be easier for you to get a sense of what I’m saying if you were looking at them. Be right back.” He left the room, and Charlotte got up to look at the painting on the behind his desk. Only a moment or two later, she heard Tom’s voice raised in conversation with someone else as he walked back towards his office. In horror, she realized that the other person was Sidney, and she panicked. There was no other explanation for her stupidity. She dropped to her hands and knees behind the desk.

“Sidney, you know I was counting on you!” Tom was protesting, as the two men walked into the office. “What am I supposed to do now? How will I….Charlotte?” He interrupted himself, his voice perplexed, as he noticed her crouched behind his desk. What was she doing down there?

“Here it is!” Charlotte popped up, feeling like a complete moron. “The back of my earring fell. I was just trying to find it. And I did. Find it, I mean.” She made a show of fiddling with her earring- thank god she was actually wearing some- and tried not to look at Sidney. _‘I saw him naked’_ her brain reminded her needlessly.

“Charlotte. Always popping up when least expected,” Sidney said evenly, giving her an inscrutable look.

She finally looked at him, her expression stony. The insinuation that she had deliberately spied on him at the cove was exactly what she’d needed to get over her embarrassment, by reminding her how much she disliked him. “I have everything I need, Tom. I won’t take up any more of your time,” she said, giving Sidney one last glare before walking out of the office.

Once again, she was oblivious that he watched her walk away. He’d never admit it out loud, but clearly Crowe had a better read on Charlotte than he did. That glare made it very clear that she wanted nothing to do with him. Sidney took a deep breath, and let it out in a huff. Then he forced himself to focus on Tom, and the reason why he’d stopped by the office that morning. _‘Charlotte Heywood saw you naked’_ the annoying little voice in his mind reminded him. For the umpteenth time that morning, he told that voice to stuff it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Funny story- I don't listen to much Katy Perry. I just Googled 'Dark Horse' to see if, by chance, there was a song with that title. I wanted a nod to the cut scene with Charlotte and Clara. Turns out that the lyrics are pretty apt for where Sidney and Charlotte are heading, hence the chapter title.


	9. Orbiting

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for the lovely feedback, whether it's here, FB or Twitter. I LOVE knowing that I've made you laugh. I can't promise that every chapter will be funny, but I can promise that I'm having fun writing them. You'll notice some familiar lines coming out of the mouths of different characters in this chapter. I hope you don't mind the liberties I've taken.

Charlotte had barely gotten back to her flat with the maps and papers Tom had given her, when her phone buzzed. She assumed it would be Arthur or Mary, and was surprised that it was Georgiana.

_Hey Charlotte, it’s G. R U free for lunch? There’s a half decent pizza place on Jennings Street._

_Sure, what time?_

_Dunno. 45 min?_

_Yeah, I can do that. See you soon._

_K. C U._

Charlotte did a quick Google search for pizza places in Sanditon, and easily found the one on Jennings Street. It turned out to be really close to the Parker’s house, and she thought that maybe she’d pop in and say hi to Mary and the kids before meeting up with Georgiana. She looked at the papers from Tom, feeling a little guilty, and then reminded herself that she was on vacation, that none of the tasks given to her required any expertise whatsoever, and that she could spend some time this afternoon focusing on them. She knew that Alison would give her that ‘Charlotte, you’re insane’ look for even having offered to do anything resembling work on her vacation, but Charlotte liked the idea of having a small project. She didn’t know enough people in Sanditon to just hang out and do nothing for four straight weeks, and the people she did know all had jobs or, in Georgiana’s case, tasks to accomplish. The only people she could think of who seemed to have nothing to do were Sidney and his two friends, and she didn’t exactly see herself being their fourth Musketeer.

Leaving the papers behind, she left her flat and headed over towards Mary’s, who luckily turned out to be home. Charlotte felt a little silly for not calling or texting first, but Mary seemed delighted that she felt comfortable just popping by. The kids were out at the park with their nanny, though, so Charlotte agreed to come for dinner that evening. Unfortunately, it was right after Charlotte agreed to come that Mary happened to mention that Sidney would be joining them as well. There was no way Charlotte could back out, without it being obvious that she didn’t want to see Sidney, and that would lay her open to too many questions.

“You’ve chatted with Sidney a few times now,” Mary commented. “What is your opinion of him?”

Shit. Shit. Charlotte could hardly tell Mary her first thought, which was that he was a champion jackass, or her second, which was that he was the sexiest man she’d ever seen. “I don’t really know what to think of him,” she hedged. “I think the best way I can describe him is ‘confounding’.” Mary mercifully dropped the subject, and Charlotte was too caught up in silently congratulating herself for dodging that bullet to notice the speculative gleam in Mary’s eye. If Charlotte had seen it, and recognized its meaning, she would have blushed down to her toes.

After saying farewell, and insisting that she would see herself out, Charlotte was just reaching the front door when it suddenly opened from the outside, and she ran right into a six foot wall of man. The force of contact actually knocked her back a step or two, and it took her a moment to realize that it was Sidney. There was no way to avoid speaking to him, but she did her best not to look him in the eye.

“I can’t seem to escape you, can I?” he said, not bothering to hide his irritation at the sight of her. How was he supposed to stop thinking about her, when she turned up everywhere he went?

She glared at his top button. It was as close to his face as she could manage. “I was just leaving,” she forced out through clenched teeth, and made a point of giving him a wide berth as she walked out the door and down the steps. Why wouldn’t he go back to London? She didn’t see how she would ever have a day’s peaceful vacation if she kept bumping into him everywhere. She walked the short way to the pizza place, hoping that Georgiana didn’t mention Sidney even once. How was she supposed to stop thinking about him, when he turned up everywhere she went?

* * *

The lunch with Georgiana had been surprisingly fun. Charlotte hadn’t quite known what to expect, but Georgiana was clever and lively, and had dozens of amusing stories of her life in London. They didn’t really have much in common, though. Charlotte had loved studying in university, loved her classes and the myriad opportunities to feed her brain, while Georgiana considered uni a necessary evil. In her eyes, it was just one more thing that her father was forcing her to do, and yet another way that her wishes were being ignored. When Charlotte asked her what it was she would rather do, Georgiana had given some answer about Instagram and makeup tutorials and product endorsements that Charlotte didn’t really understand. It was unfathomable to her that anyone with a decent brain would rather spend their time on social media. Charlotte dreamed of leaving her mark on the world somehow, and everything on the internet was just so transient. You blink, and there’s a new trend, a new viral video, a new internet star. Or, conversely, you embarrassed yourself horribly, and it stayed accessible forever. She kept her thoughts to herself, though. Georgiana tried to come across as sophisticated, but Charlotte thought she seemed very young and lost. She was only four years older than her new friend, and hadn’t seen nearly as many places in the world, but she was developing a kind of big sisterly feeling towards her. Charlotte knew that if her younger sister Margaret, who was 17, had big dreams of becoming famous somehow, that she would never squash them with cold reality. So she couldn’t bring herself to try to squash Georgiana’s ambitions, such as they were. Besides, from the way Georgiana spoke about her father, Sidney, Mrs. Griffiths, her professors- any adult, really- she would be pretty deaf to even the most well-meaning advice. Still, Georgiana was fun to hang out with for lunch, and Charlotte had a hunch they would be spending more time together.

After lunch, she went back to her flat, and dedicated a solid three hours to working on the Regatta projects for Tom. The cricket match was only two days away, and none of it was super complicated. Tom really just seemed to need someone to organize the day for him, and create some visual timetables and lists of outstanding tasks to be completed ahead of time. Charlotte couldn’t quite understand why Tom hadn’t done of this for himself, or had one of his employees do it, because it was pretty basic organizational stuff, but then again, not everyone had the same skill sets. At least she had found a way to be useful. She checked her watch, and since it was barely after 4pm, she thought that she might just be able to catch Tom at his office to return his maps and show him what she’d come up with. She sent off a quick text to let him know she was on her way over, and then gathered up all the paperwork and headed out the door. She made sure to have her headphones in again, since that strategy had worked well enough this morning. Once she got to Tom’s office, she relaxed, because the odds of running into _him_ there, twice in one day, were just too ridiculous to even contemplate.

She walked into the office, to find Tom hidden behind a newspaper with his feet on the desk. She couldn’t recall the last time she’d seen anyone, other than her father, reading an actual newspaper. It was kind of sweet, really.

“Hey Tom, I wanted to bring back those…” her voice trailed off, as the newspaper lowered, and she found herself looking into Sidney Parker’s gorgeous, and annoyed, dark eyes. “Oh.”

“The ubiquitous Miss Heywood,” he muttered, rolling his eyes. What was this, the third time today he’d run into her? Maybe Babington was right after all, and she was just sneakier at stalking him than he’d given her credit for. “Can’t I even read the news in peace?”

“Seriously, Parker?” she spat back. “You’re in _Tom’s_ office. If you want to be alone, why not try somewhere more private?”

“Yeah, I tried that yesterday,” he retorted. “It didn’t exactly work, now did it?” He gave her a pointed look, his meaning crystal clear. Charlotte flushed, and glared at him. Why would he reference that? Did he _want_ her to stand here, picturing him naked?

She slapped the pile of papers down on the desk. “If Tom is around, make sure he gets these. It’s the _only_ reason I stopped by, and he was expecting me.” _‘Don’t bother,’_ she told herself. _‘You don’t owe him explanations. You don’t owe him anything.’_ She spun on her heel, and walked out. The nerve of him! To act as though she had come looking for him, like some stalker? Like she was now magnetically drawn to his rock-hard abs and just couldn’t keep herself away? Please. She had better things to do than throw herself at some guy just because he’s pretty. She required more than that, like someone she could have a substantial conversation with, and Sidney Parker clearly was not that guy. They hadn’t even managed to master idle small talk together.

Her indignation carried her down the next two streets. She’d been too flustered and irritated to put her headphones in again, and was startled out of her preoccupation with her mental list of all the reasons why Sidney Parker was the absolute worst by the sound of a guy calling her name. She instinctively realized that it was not Sidney’s deep baritone, and looked around to see James, Arthur’s friend, waving at her from across the street. She waved back, grateful for the distraction, and crossed over to him.

“Hey Charlotte, how’s it going?”

“Not too bad. You? I’m sure Tom is keeping you busy.”

“Yeah, I’ve barely come up for air. I’m heading over towards the beach, just to stretch my legs before I drive home. Any interest in joining me?” Charlotte readily agreed. She wasn’t due at Mary’s until 6pm, and really had nothing to do. She refused to go home and change clothes, because no doubt Captain Arrogance would assume that she was trying to look good for him. Her gauzy white maxi skirt, yellow top and yellow scarf were just fine for an evening with the kids. She shoved Sidney out of her mind again, and focused on James. They spoke about his hopes and dreams for a career in tourism and hospitality, and Charlotte shared her dilemma about having a brand new Masters degree but no idea what to do with it.

“I wish I’d gone to uni,” James said wistfully. “My da didn’t see the need for it. He wanted me to follow him in the family contractor business. ‘There’s good solid, honest work and on-the-job training’ he told me. But my heart’s just not in it.”

“So you got a job at the resort, instead?” Charlotte asked.

“Actually, I’d been working there with my father a few summers ago, helping to build the new indoor pool, and I was really fascinated by the comings and goings of all those people from different places. So after that project, I approached Mr. Tom about an opportunity, and he found a place for me. Da was _not_ pleased. He still holds a grudge against Mr. Tom for ‘poaching’ me.”

“Surely ambition is a good thing, right? Wouldn’t a parent want their kids to have dreams and try to follow them?”

“Maybe a different kind of parent,” James said, shrugging his shoulders. “But not mine. How about your folks? What do they think of urban planning as a career?”

“They’re supportive, in the ‘we don’t get what it is but we love you’ kind of way. They weren’t super keen on my living in London, and I think they’re hoping I’ll move closer to home now that my studies are done. But I don’t know. London isn’t really my speed, but moving back home feels like a step backwards. Not sure where that leaves me. Other than here, for a few more weeks at least.”

A sudden shout made them both turn their heads. No more than twenty feet ahead of them, an older man on a bike had hit a crack in the pavement, careened into the curb, and was thrown to the ground. His head hit the pavement with an audible thud, and his left leg was pinned underneath the bike at an unnatural angle. Charlotte immediately ran to him, while a crowd of on-lookers gathered nearby. James followed her.

“Are you alright, sir? Can you hear me?” Charlotte asked. She knelt by his side, taking stock of his injuries as best she could. The man groaned, and tried to tell her that he was okay. “My name is Charlotte. I have first aid training. Will you let me help?” He groaned his consent, and Charlotte immediately called one of the onlookers over to help.

“James, help this guy ease the bike off. Slowly, slowly!” As the bike was lifted, Charlotte could see that there was a terrible gash below the man’s knee, and she had a feeling he had broken a bone. His head was also bleeding. She whipped the scarf off her hair, and folded it up into a pad to staunch the wound on his head, just as someone else came running up to the scene.

“Move! Let me through!” he said, and she was shocked to see Sidney kneeling beside her. “I can help,” he added, looking her in the eye.

“We need to stop the bleeding. And call for an ambulance,” she told him. He took out his phone, and called for help, turning back to find Charlotte tugging at the fabric of her skirt.

“Help me,” she said, and he grabbed the hem and tore a long swath of the gauzy fabric. He handed it to her, and she fashioned it into a tourniquet. He couldn’t help but be impressed as she expertly tied it. She was so calm and unflappable. He wouldn’t have known to do that. “There, that should stop the bleeding. For now.” Looking around at the small group, she noticed a couple with a beach blanket, and asked if she could have it. They were surprised, but handed it over, and Charlotte used it to cover the old man. She sat beside him, totally unfazed by the blood on her hands or her clothes, and held his hand, speaking to him in a calm quiet voice until the ambulance arrived 15 minutes later. She gave the paramedics as much information as she could, including her own name and contact information, and remained there until they drove off. The crowd slowly dispersed, until the only ones left were Charlotte, James, and Sidney.

James grabbed her hands, and began to lavishly praise her heroism. Charlotte shook her head, uncomfortable with the praise. “It was nothing, really. I’m just glad we were close by.” James looked at his watch, marveling at how much earlier it was than he’d thought. So much had happened so quickly that he was sure it must be close to 7:00pm, but it was only 5:30pm. The reminder of the time made Charlotte aware that it was almost time to go to Mary’s for supper, and that now she would have to go home and change. She could hardly show up with a giant chunk of her skirt missing. As soon as she said she had to leave, James decided that he also had to go home, and said goodbye, kissing her on the cheek and tossing out another compliment before he walked away. He gave Sidney one of those unreadable manly chin-nods as a farewell.

Charlotte had almost forgotten that Sidney was still there, and she turned her head to find him looking right at her. She couldn’t read his expression. He wasn’t annoyed, or angry, or any of the emotions she was used to seeing him express. He was just…watching her calmly. She waited a moment, and when it seemed that he was not going to say anything, she began to walk away.

“Hey…Charlotte.”

She turned back, surprised and wary, and not a little curious what he was going to say.

“I just wanted to say that you did a really great job.” She blinked at him, shocked that he had said something so nice and _normal_. And then he ruined it. “I didn’t think you’d be so…capable.”

“Because I am a woman?” she asked, eyebrows raised, and began to walk back towards him. “Or because you’d already dismissed me as shallow?” He ducked his head sheepishly, and gave her a half smile that was unappealingly appealing.

“A little of both, to be honest,” he confessed. “Can you forgive me?” He cocked his head slightly to one side, his eyes searching hers. She gave a little sigh, and bravely lowered her guard.

“I guess I have to,” she replied, giving him a half smile of her own, “because I’m equally guilty of dismissing you.”

“Oh?” he questioned archly. “And what did I do deserve such condemnation?” Having seen real anger on his face enough times by now, she knew he wasn’t upset. If anything, he looked like he was trying not to smile. Wait, was he trying to _flirt_? No, that was an absurd thought, and she was annoyed at herself for even thinking it.

“Well, for starters, you act like it’s a pain in the ass to help Tom.”

“Hang on, that’s really unfair,” he protested. “I do everything I can for Tom.”

“Do you?” she challenged, but then moved on without giving him a chance to reply. “And, since you asked, you’ve hardly been much of a friend to Georgiana.”

“It’s not my job to be her friend!” He looked at Charlotte in disbelief. “I manage her trust fund. It’s my job to look after her money, not to look after the girl herself.”

“Who else is there to look after her?” Charlotte shot back. “She’s still just a kid, alone, with no family to speak of. If it were Arthur, wouldn’t you want to know that someone had his back?” She was gathering steam and started to say something else, but then, looking at him, stopped abruptly. He found himself more than a little disappointed. She was so…animated, when she cared about something. Charlotte huffed out a little sigh. “Now you are about to tell me that I have no right to say any of this, and that you don’t give a rat’s ass about my opinion anyway.”

“No,” he said gently. He didn’t like hearing that he was the reason she’d stopped. Clearly his previous comments to her had hit a nerve. No wonder she had such a negative opinion of him- he’d really been a dick to her so far. She raised her eyes to his, wary of what was coming next, but strangely hopeful at his soft tone. Maybe, just maybe, this conversation wouldn’t end like all the others. “No,” he went on, “I asked for your opinion this time. And maybe, just this once,” a dimple flashed in one cheek, “you’re not totally wrong.”

Charlotte gave him an exaggerated look of astonishment. “Coming from you, Parker, that’s the greatest compliment imaginable.” For a few seconds, they just stood there, looking at each other. Neither knew what to say, but neither was quite ready to walk away. Finally remembering her torn skirt, Charlotte began to leave.

“Oh…and Charlotte?” She turned back to him again, a little smile on her face. Her heart was beating a little faster than it had been a minute ago. She retraced her steps until she was in front of him again. “About our…meeting… down by the coves? I hope you weren’t too embarrassed.”

Heat flooded her cheeks as her traitorous brain flashed an image of his sculpted body drenched in sunlight and water. “Why should I be embarrassed?” She tried to turn the tables on him. “ _I_ was fully clothed.”

“Ummm…yeah. Good point.” It worked. Sidney was the one who was now flustered. Why had he even brought it up? What was wrong with him? That annoying little voice in his head suggested that he hadn’t been ready to stop talking to her just yet. “I mean, still….it wasn’t cool of you to ambush me like that.”

Charlotte’s mouth dropped open, and she looked away as she insisted, “I didn’t do it on purpose!” She couldn’t look him in the eyes anymore. It was too embarrassing, no matter what she’d just told him.

“Neither did I!” He couldn’t keep the smile off his face. No matter what Crowe might say, she hadn’t run away because she hadn’t liked what she saw. He was confident of that much. Sidney couldn’t help feeling a certain masculine pride at being able to rattle her like this. She was pretty cute when she was flustered.

“Well then,” she started, but got no further. She tried looking at him, but had to look away again. She knew he was just teasing her- oh yeah, definitely flirting now- and she was thrown off by how charming she found it. Sidney Parker being playful was frighteningly hard to resist.

“Well then,” he concurred, still smiling down at her until she looked at him again. He couldn’t think of anything else to say, but didn’t want to leave. It was like she was exerting some kind of gravitational pull, and he just wanted to stay in her orbit for a little longer. The thought should have been terrifying, but he was feeling too happy to be bothered by it. He finally broke his gaze away from hers. “See you at supper,” he said, almost shyly, and then walked off down the street in the direction of Tom and Mary’s. Charlotte headed off towards her flat, unable to stop herself from looking back over her shoulder at him. She had no clue what it was that just happened, but it definitely felt like _something_. Maybe she’d have to mention Sidney in her next email to Alison, after all.


	10. Second Impressions

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the long wait, everyone!! I'm on holiday this week, so I'm hoping to churn out the next chapters a bit faster.

By the time Charlotte got back to her flat, cleaned up, and changed her outfit, it was so close to 6:00pm that she ended up taking a taxi to Mary’s. She didn’t want to be the reason that the kids had to wait for supper. Charlotte didn’t know whether Sidney would mention the bike accident or not, so she sent Mary a text to let her know that she was on her way. Turns out that she needn’t have worried about supper. As soon as she knocked, a flushed Mary opened the door and immediately began apologizing for being behand schedule. “It’s been one of those days, Charlotte! One tenant messaged me to complain about the shower not being strong enough. So I sent my handyman over there to check it out, and he messages me within minutes of arriving to give me the heads up that there’re signs of 4 people staying there. Only two people are registered to that apartment. And worse, the place is filthy, covered with takeout boxes and food garbage. So I had to go over there and remind them of the terms of their stay. And let me tell you…” Charlotte listened politely, as Mary unloaded her frustration. As soon as Mary took a breath, Charlotte offered to help her get supper ready, but Mary declined. “Oh, no, I’m terrible at delegating in the kitchen. I’ve sent Sidney out into the backyard with the kids, to keep them out of my hair. Why don’t you go back and join them?” Charlotte felt strangely shy about seeing Sidney, but couldn’t see a way out of it, so she went to the backyard as instructed.

She’d spent so much of her day wanting to avoid him, but this was a different feeling. Up until just about now, the idea of being in the same place as Sidney Parker filled her with apprehension. She was no longer dreading the sting of whatever barb he flung at her, and, for once, wasn’t mentally preparing a few zingers of her own. She didn’t think he would revert back to being the jerk of previous conversations, and that’s exactly what made her feel shy. The other Parkers she felt she knew- she could describe Tom, Mary, Diana or Arthur easily, and felt she had at least a basic understanding of who they were. But Sidney? Without the armour of animosity, who was the man underneath? Charlotte was beginning to realize that perhaps she had never truly met Sidney Parker before today. He was a stranger wearing an increasingly familiar face, and she was unaccountably nervous.

The children saw her first, and the girls came running. “Charlotte, come play with us!” Alicia called out, grabbing her hand and tugging as soon as she reached her. Charlotte laughed and allowed herself to be tugged along. At least with the children, nothing was every complicated. “What are we playing?” she asked.

“We’re having sea battles with Uncle Sidney!” Jenny told her, holding up a toy motor boat and pointing to the kiddie pool filled with water. “You can take charge of the German fleet. We’re the Haxis powers, and Henry and Uncle Sidney are the Allies.”

“It’s _Axis_ , Jenny,” Alicia corrected her little sister. She looked up at Charlotte. “We can call you ‘Admiral Heywood.’”

“Well, come on then!” Charlotte cried, “We can’t let those beastly boys win!”

“We have to win,” Sidney spoke up for the first time since Charlotte arrived. He’d focused on playing with Henry, so that he wasn’t staring at her like an awkward teenage boy. Which was unnervingly precisely how he felt. He’d seen her, what, 30 minutes ago? And now he felt as though he were seeing her properly for the very first time. His eyes flicked over her from head to toe, taking in as many details as possible in that one sweeping glance. She’d changed into another one of those long flowy skirts that she seemed to favour, this one a pale pink like the inside of a flower petal, and a fitted white top with sleeves that ended just past her elbows. He liked the way she didn’t seem to feel the need to show off her considerable assets, but didn’t try to hide them either. She had a casual, natural sort of style that announced “This is who I am, and I’m cool with it” and it was a refreshing change from the artifice he was so used to in London.

“Why do you _have_ to win?” Charlotte asked. She hadn’t missed him checking her out, and she didn’t exactly mind. And while she’d have denied it until she was blue in the face, she’d been thinking about seeing him again when she chose her outfit. 

“Because it’s a matter of history,” Sidney explained, putting on a pompous tone. “The Allies won World War II, so they have to win today’s battle, too.”

“Revisionist history is important for unlearning misinformation,” Charlotte mused. “Can’t we rewrite our own histories, if they’re disagreeable?” She gave him a shy smile, and hoped he understood what she was really trying to say. He didn’t say anything, but tilted his head to one side as he looked her in the eyes. He gave her one of his endearing half smiles, the kind that flashed just a hint of dimple, and she was pretty sure that he had understood her completely. In complete accord for the first time in their acquaintance, they knelt side by side in front of the kiddie pool, and flipped on the little motor boats.

“On the count of three,” Alicia took charge. “One…two…three!” Charlotte and Sidney placed their boats in the water. Charlotte’s boat puttered off across the pool, while Sidney’s careened into one side and began going in circles. Alicia and Jenny cheered, declaring themselves the winners. Tom came out into the yard to tell them that supper was ready, and the girls ran off to tell their father about the sea battles. Henry raced after them, not wanting to be left out.

“Revisionist history?” Sidney asked, as he and Charlotte trailed behind the kids. “You can’t actually change the past, you know.”

“I know,” Charlotte agreed. “But you can learn to understand it differently. Sometimes a change in perspective is all one needs to be able to move forward in a new direction.”

“What is it that you studied? I’m guessing philosophy.”

“Nope,” Charlotte flashed him a grin, “urban planning. But I’ll admit to taking a few philosophy courses.” She paused unexpectedly, and her eyes lost their focus. He could tell that she was suddenly thinking of something else entirely. She was so expressive. He felt he could watch her for hours and not get tired of seeing her different moods and thoughts flit across her face.

“What is it?” he asked softly.

Her eyes cleared as she looked at him again. “I’ve just thought of something,” she said slowly. He could tell she was still processing whatever thought had just taken her away, and his curiosity to know how her brain worked grew that much stronger.

“What is it?” he asked again, prodding gently.

“I was thinking about rewriting history,” she began. “You know, revisionist history to give us a different perspective? Then I started thinking about historical fiction, like Philippa Gregory, and the way it gives us a glimpse into what life might have been like for women or other marginalized groups. And then I thought of historical romance, and how many thousands of woman love to read love stories set in the Regency period.”

“That’s a lot of thoughts for the space of two seconds,” Sidney commented. Charlotte’s face clouded.

“You’re mocking me,” she said, disappointed.

“No,” he reassured her, shaking his head slowly. “I’m marveling at you. Go on, please.” Her eyes searched his, and whatever she saw, combined with his gentle tone and the emphasis on the last word, must have reassured her.

“Well, I know Tom has focused his marketing on Janeites and history buffs, right? People like me. But, what about the thousands of woman who couldn’t care less about historical fact but dream of clandestine embraces with a duke in a moonlit garden? What about using social media, like a Twitter campaign, to hype up the Midsummer Ball to the historical romance crowd? And the authors? Maybe it’s too late for this year, but perhaps lining up book signings for next summer?” She looked at him, biting her lower lip. “What do you think?”

“I think you should tell Tom,” he encouraged. “You’re probably right, that there is a whole market out there that he didn’t think of. Come on.” He grabbed her hand, and pulled her into the house, calling for Tom. “Tom! Come here!” They found him in the dining room, trying to keep Henry’s fingers out of the potatoes.

“What’s wrong?” Tom asked.

“Nothing at all,” Sidney replied, looking down at Charlotte, and waiting for her to speak up. It surprised him that she wasn’t bursting at the seams to tell Tom her idea. It was a really good one. It also surprised him that he hadn’t dropped her hand yet. He released it now, running his now free hand through his hair and hoping the gesture distracted Tom from noticing that their hands had been linked in the first place. “Charlotte has had an idea. And not a bad one, at that.”

“Have you?” Tom looked eagerly at Charlotte. “Have you, Charlotte?” Both men looked at her expectantly.

“Well, yes,” she said. She didn’t really know where to start. The true origins of the idea started with her thinking about her topsy-turvy interactions with Sidney, but she wasn’t about to share _that_. She fumbled her way through the explanation she had given Sidney, ending with “I know that you want to draw more people to Sanditon, and I really believe that, no matter why they come, they’ll fall in love with the place, just like I have.” She snuck a glance at Sidney, trying to gauge his expression. He looked away as soon as she did. She looked at Tom, who was staring at her as though she were his fairy godmother.

“Charlotte!” he exclaimed. “You’re brilliant! I could kiss you! Of course….romance novels! It’s so obvious. We’ll start a Twitter campaign first thing tomorrow. You’ll meet me at the office at 9am? There’s so much to do! Mary! Mary, you need to hear my new idea!” He raced off to the kitchen. Since no one was paying him any attention, Henry gleefully stuck his finger into the mashed potatoes.

“He’s going to take full credit for your idea, you know,” Sidney warned.

“I don’t need credit,” Charlotte responded. Sidney raised one eyebrow. “I mean it. It’s not false modesty, or anything. This is his town, his pet project. I’m happy to help, but I don’t need my name on a banner.”

“You’re a surprising woman, Charlotte Heywood,” he said lightly.

“Not really,” she deflected. Noticing Henry, she pulled his hand out of the potatoes, and scooped him up to go wash, leaving a very thoughtful Sidney behind.

During supper, Charlotte gave her focus to the kids. She didn’t ignore Sidney, exactly, but she needed to put a little space between them. Whatever was happening, it was happening too fast for her brain to keep up. The kids didn’t really go along with her silent plan, though. Given the choice to play with Charlotte or Uncle Sidney, they unanimously voted for both, and Charlotte found herself sitting on the living room floor building a giant Lego fort with Sidney. It was really sweet, the way he was with his nieces and nephews, but it felt too much like they were playing house. Normally, Charlotte would have been more than happy to stay late chatting with Tom and Mary, but this time she really needed the solitude and Sidney-free space of her little flat. She started making noises about leaving as soon as the kids were tucked into bed.

“It’s just been a really packed day,” she said. “I’m running out of steam.”

“Of course, dear. I’m not surprised, after that bike accident Sidney told us about!” Mary instantly understood. Tom started to say something about wanting to talk with Charlotte about the new Twitter campaign, but Mary overrode him. “You’ll talk to Charlotte tomorrow. Let the girl go get a good night’s rest, Tom. Charlotte, want me to call you a taxi?”

“Oh, no need. It’s my brain that’s tired, not my legs. A quiet evening walk sounds pretty perfect right now.”

“I don’t really like the idea of you walking along, though. I know Sanditon is quiet, but still…” Mary began.

“I’ll be fine, Mary,” Charlotte reassured her. “I’ll text as soon as I get in, okay?”

“I’ll walk her back, Mary,” Sidney chimed in. Charlotte looked over at him in surprise.

“No, really, there’s no need to make such a fuss,” Charlotte protested. An evening walk through the quaint streets of Old Sanditon with Sidney Parker next to her? The universe was conspiring against her.

“It’s not a bother, and Mary will feel more comfortable,” Sidney told her. “Am I right, Mary?”

“Thank you, Sidney,” his sister-in-law replied, her relief evident. “Will you come back after, or head over to the resort?”

“I’ll turn in for the night. I’ve a morning meeting in London tomorrow, and I’m leaving early.” Sidney kissed Mary on the cheek, gave Tom a one-armed man hug, and waited by the door for Charlotte as she said her own goodbyes. Together, they walked down the stairs and into the evening in companionable silence. Charlotte wasn’t sure what to say. Every question she could think of sounded stupid. How do you start getting to know someone that you’ve been arguing with since you met them? Normal small talk seemed to awkward, after the things they’d said to each other.

“So…urban planning?” Sidney suddenly asked. Either he didn’t think small talk seemed silly, or else the need to break the silence proved stronger.

“Yeah. I know, not what you’d have guessed. Everyone says that.”

“How’d you end up in it?”

“My dad is in commercial real estate. I’ve grown up hearing about land, and who buys the land, and what they use it for, my whole life. It’s not very interesting. But I’ve always loved history, and how things change over time. Somehow, the two morphed into urban planning and development. And here I am, with a lot of knowledge and enthusiasm, and no clue how to put it to use.” Charlotte gave a self-deprecating shrug. “So…finance?”

He snorted. “Yeah. All those summer jobs working in my father’s office lead to a business degree. I guess we both ended up where we are in part due to who and what our father’s were.”

“But what do you actually, you know, _do_?” Charlotte asked. “’Finance’ is pretty vague.”

“Mostly, I manage investments and portfolios.” He paused, and then gave a shrug of his own. “I guess that isn’t much more explicit, is it? On a good day, I help people plan for what matters to them- retirement, university funds for their kids, that kind of thing.”

“And on a bad day?”

“On a bad day, I move people’s money around, help them make more money. It’s not very inspiring, I know. But it can be more of an intellectual challenge than you might think.”

“Do you enjoy it?” Charlotte asked, genuinely curious.

“For the most part, yes.”

“Then that’s really what matters, isn’t it?”

“I guess it is,” he said, looking at her. Charlotte Heywood was turning out to be full of surprises. She was young, sure, but not the naïve featherbrain he had tried to convince himself she was. Now that he’d actually taken the time to talk to her, Sidney was finding that, despite her admittedly limited world experience, she had solid common sense, and a kind of practicality to her that made her seem older than she was. It suddenly dawned on Sidney that he didn’t even know for sure how old Charlotte was. He knew she had a master’s degree, but that didn’t tell him very much. She could be anywhere between 22-35 for all he knew. Perhaps it was pretty hypocritical for him to have blasted her for filling in backstories for people, when he had done the same to her without realizing it. “Hey, can I ask you a favour?”

“Me?” Charlotte’s astonishment could not have been plainer. She turned her face up to his, her dark eyes huge with surprise.

“Surprising as it might seem, I think you’re the best person to ask,” he said, trying, and failing, to keep the smile off his face. “I was thinking about what you said, about no one really having Georgiana’s back. I think it will take a long time for her to trust me, but in the meantime…would you maybe reach out to her? Her friends in London aren’t really what I’d call ‘dependable’.”

“I’m surprised you think I’d be a good influence,” Charlotte replied, surprised and flattered.

“Is it impossible to think that we’ve had each other wrong?” Sidney suggested softly. “Admiral Heywood?”

Charlotte smiled back, aware that her heart was fluttering and that her cheeks were probably pink. “Not at all, Commodore Parker.”

“Commodore?” he asked. “How come I don’t get to be an admiral, too?”

“Please,” she scoffed. “I clearly outrank you. You couldn’t even get your boat to go in a straight line. I might need to demote you further, after that sorry performance.” He laughed, the first full laugh she’d heard from him. They grinned at each other, and kept up the light chat and banter for the remainder of the walk. The ice had been broken, and small talk no longer felt so ridiculous.

“Well, this is me,” she said, as they reached Waterloo Terrace. “Thanks for walking me back.”

“My pleasure,” Sidney replied, and they stood looking at each other for a long moment. He had to remind himself that this wasn’t a date. The quiet walk had created a sense of intimacy, of romance even, that was messing with his head a little.

“Goodnight, Parker,” she said, and for the first time, it sounded like camaraderie, rather than an insult. He realized in that moment both that she had never once called him by his first name, and that he wanted her to.

“Goodnight, Charlotte,” he returned. “See you around.” He waited until she got safely inside, and then walked to the resort, trying to figure out exactly what it was about Charlotte Heywood that was so compelling. Because that was the best word he could find for what he was feeling- he was compelled to talk to her, to see her again, to figure her out. Whatever was brewing between them was a puzzle he needed to solve.

Charlotte watched him walk away through her bedroom window. She felt so confused. She barely knew this guy, but had spent most of the day thinking about him. Sure, the majority of those thoughts had been negative, but it was still an awful lot of brain space to give to anyone. Even when she’d been mentally dissing him, she felt drawn to him, and now that they were finally being civil…that pull was impossible to ignore. It went beyond attraction. Attraction was simple. This was anything but.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As we head into Episode 4 territory, I suggest you buckle up. We're going to hit some rocky terrain...but we're still on course for a HEA.


	11. Two Steps Back

Charlotte’s brain woke up before the rest of her. She lay in bed, unwilling to open her eyes or move her limbs, while her mind starting going through different strategies for implementing the Twitter idea she’d had yesterday. The biggest hurdle was going to be Charlotte’s lack of presence on social media. She didn’t even have a Twitter account, and didn’t use Facebook all that much. She knew her idea had merit, but feared that it was way too late for it to be helpful for this year. But Tom seemed so hopeful, so energized by the possibility of success, that she knew she had to try.

 _‘Georgiana!’_ her mind shouted. _‘Georgiana knows all about influencing on social media!’_ With that thought, her legs kicked into gear, and Charlotte got out of bed and went scrambling for her phone. She glanced at the time- 7:30am- and decided that it was too early to text. She hopped in the shower and got dressed, her mind whirling with various ways to approach Georgiana for help. She was surprised to hear her phone buzz, and even more surprised that it was from Georgiana herself. What a funny coincidence!

_Hey, you up?_

_Yes. I was going to text you actually, but thought for sure you’d be asleep._

_Can I come over?_

_Now?_

_Yeah. I need your help. Please? It’s important._

_Of course. Waterloo Terrace, flat 2._

Mystified, Charlotte waited impatiently for Georgiana to arrive. What could she possibly need help with, that sent her over to Charlotte’s so early in the morning. She didn’t have to wait long, but it felt like forever. Within 15 minutes, her doorbell buzzed. After confirming that it was Georgiana, Charlotte let her in, and opened the front door.

“Oh, Charlotte!” Georgiana cried out, as she climbed the final few steps. She handed Charlotte a cup of coffee. “I don’t know how to thank you! I didn’t know where else to go! Oh, I hope you like your coffee with one milk and one sugar. I didn’t know how you take it.”

“That’s fine,” Charlotte said. “Thanks. But…Georgiana, what is going on? And who the hell are you?” This last was directed at the man who had followed closely behind Georgiana and was now walking into Charlotte’s flat with her. He was a good-looking guy, a few years shy of 30, maybe five inches taller than Charlotte, with a strong, wiry build. His dark skin was set off attractively by the fitted grey T-shirt and camel-coloured bomber jacket he was wearing. He was looking at Charlotte just as warily as she looked at him.

“I’m Otis. Who are you?” he shot back.

“Charlotte. I live here.” She turned to Georgiana. “What’s going on?”

“Otis is my fiancé,” Georgiana explained quickly. “I can’t have any guys in my room, according to Griffith’s 18th century rules of idiocy, and I don’t trust those prattling Beaufort twits to keep their mouths shut. He’s only here for one day, and we just need a place to spend time together. I thought maybe you’d help us?” She let her voice trail off hopefully, looking at Charlotte with big, dark eyes.

“I don’t understand,” Charlotte said. “We had lunch just yesterday. Why didn’t you ask then? Why all the urgency at eight in the morning?” Something wasn’t adding up here. “And what do you mean, he’s your fiancé?”

“I didn’t know he was coming then! I told him yesterday afternoon that Sidney was leaving for London, and he surprised me by taking the early train in this morning.” Georgiana stepped closer to Otis, and snuggled against his side. “He’s so romantic like that. And isn’t he the sexiest man you’ve ever seen?”

“Georgiana sings my praises too highly,” Otis protested. “You’ll have to take everything she’s told you about me with a grain of salt.”

“That’s easy,” Charlotte said, still uneasy. “She’s never even mentioned you. Why wouldn’t she mention her own fiancé?”

Georgiana looked a little sheepish. “It’s not public news,” she tried to explain. “My dad thinks we’ve broken up, and…well…I’m letting him believe that for now.” Charlotte just looked at her, silently waiting for more information. Georgiana sighed. “Actually, I’m technically not allowed to see Otis anymore. My dad doesn’t approve. But he’s never even met him!”

“Then why doesn’t he approve?”

“Because his henchman filled his head will all sorts of lies, and convinced him to hire a private investigator,” Otis said bitterly.

“His henchman?”

“Sidney Parker, who else?” Otis spat out.

“I don’t understand,” Charlotte said again. Somehow, the more Georgiana and Otis told her, the more confused she was becoming. “I thought he just managed your trust fund. What does he have to do with the two of you?”

Georgiana rolled her eyes. “He and my dad are, like, _friends_ or something. Since my dad never bothers coming to England to see me, he has Sidney watch me. So when Otis and I started seeing each other in March, Sidney told my dad, and my dad had Otis looked into. Then he called me, and told me that I couldn’t see him anymore! Its so stupid!”

“But why would Sidney say anything bad about Otis in the first place? It sounds like he’s just trying to look out for you.”

“Why do you think?” Otis retorted. “I’m black, I’m African, and that’s all he needs to know.”

“You’re telling me that Sidney is racist and xenophobic,” Charlotte said.

“Google him,” Georgiana suggested. “You won’t find a single picture of him with any black friends. Just his blond, blue-eyed Barbie dolls. My dad is a total xenophobe. The fact that Otis is here on a work visa was almost enough, and Sidney knew just what to say to make him panic. So now we have to meet in secret. You will help us, won’t you, Charlotte? Please? It’s just for today.”

“What is it you’re asking of me?” Charlotte asked, her mind whirling. Sidney couldn’t be racist, could he? Then again, what did she really know of him? Just yesterday, she was aware that he was pretty much a stranger. He was crazy charming at times, but that didn’t tell her anything about his beliefs and values. It’s not like they’d been discussing Brexit or current events or anything of any real significance last night. All she knew about him was that his family came from Sanditon, that he was in finance, and that he looked great naked, and it was pure luck that she even knew that last part. Maybe he was really right-wing, politically. Then again, Georgiana’s story still didn’t make a ton of sense. Even if Sidney were all the things Otis and she claimed, Mr. Lambe had still hired a private investigator and _then_ forbade the relationship. She wondered what the investigation turned up, but could hardly ask that in front of Otis.

“Just to let us hang out here for the day. That’s all,” Georgiana insisted. “We almost never have the chance to just be alone together anymore. Please, Charlotte.”

“Oh, fine,” she gave in. What harm could it do? Then, remembering Mary’s tirade yesterday about irresponsible tenants, she added, “But don’t trash the place. And spare sheets are in the linen closet. Maid’s day off, and all that.”

“Thank you, Charlotte! I owe you big time!” Georgiana threw her arms around Charlotte. Charlotte was glad to have made her so happy, but she still couldn’t quite quell her unease.

“And I know just how to collect,” Charlotte replied. She glanced at her watch. “You have 20 minutes to give me a crash course in social media. Here’s what I’m trying to accomplish…”

Charlotte spent a good part of the day at Tom’s office. Georgiana had been a goldmine of information on creating buzz, and had even agreed to do a few Instagram posts about Regency style to promote the Midsummer Ball. She opened Twitter accounts for herself, for Tom, and one for the Regency Fair, created a few hashtags, and started following as many British historical romance authors as she could. She found a Jane Austen Book Club, joined a historical romance ‘sisterhood’, and within three hours had over 150 followers. She asked to join three different Facebook groups. Charlotte was astonished at how quickly the day could go by just tweeting, retweeting, and posting. Before she knew it, it was 4pm, and she was starving. She texted Georgiana, to give a heads up that she was coming back.

_Leaving office now. Getting takeout. Have you guys eaten?_

It took a good 10 minutes before Georgiana replied, by which time Charlotte had already left and was on her way to the Chinese takeout place that Arthur had recommended. Lo mein sounded perfect right now.

_Otis says dinner is on us. We’ll have a picnic in your living room. Which is spotlessly clean, btw._

_I have a hankering for Chinese._

_Call when you get there. He’ll give our order and cc # over the phone._

_Ok, thanks._

The guy at the restaurant gave Charlotte a weird look when she walked in and handed him her phone to place an order, but Otis’s idea worked well otherwise. Charlotte hefted the large brown paper bag, and carried the food back to her flat. She needed to do a bit of a juggling act to get the key in the door, but managed to make it in and up the stairs without sacrificing a single egg roll. When she got inside, she found that Otis and Georgiana had spread out a tablecloth on the floor of the living room, and set it with napkins and plates. She hadn’t really thought they were serious about the picnic thing, but it was cute. Far less cute, however, was the constant foreplay taking place in front of her eyes during the whole meal. Otis had the grace to look a little awkward, but Georgiana seemed completely oblivious. She made calf’s eyes at Otis the whole time, and kept feeding him bites of food with her fingers. Charlotte did not appreciate being made to feel a third wheel, in her own apartment no less.

Eventually, the time came for Otis to catch his train back to London, and for Georgiana to head back to her own room. They both helped tidy up the living room, thanking Charlotte profusely for allowing them the use of her place for the day. Since Charlotte didn’t want her flat smelling like leftover lo mein, she decided to walk them down and throw away the trash outside. To her surprise, Sidney was downstairs, and about to ring her buzzer. He seemed even more surprised to see her appear, but his smile faded quickly as soon as he saw who she was with.

“Mr. Molyneux,” Sidney drawled, in a way that told Charlotte that he was anything but amused. She’d seen that smirk and heard that tone directed at her enough times to know that this was not the same Sidney she’d said goodnight to only a day ago. “You are the very last person I’d expect to find in Sanditon.”

“My bad,” Otis countered. “I’d have let you know that I was coming, but wasn’t sure how you’d feel about it.”

“Oh, you knew exactly how I’d feel about it. Nothing has changed, and it isn’t going to.” Sidney’s jaw was set with barely-leashed anger. “Georgiana, go back to Mrs. Griffith’s. Now.” Georgiana clung to Otis’s hand, and looked imploringly from one man to the next. “You will not see this man again.” He walked slowly up to Otis, getting right in his face, and growled, “If I see you within one mile of her again, I will not be responsible for my actions.” Charlotte was taken aback by the anger in Sidney’s voice. His whole body was tense, as though he was fighting the impulse to swing at Otis. She knew Sidney had a temper, had witnessed some of it directed at her, but this was beyond anything she could have expected.

Otis dropped Georgiana’s hand, and walked away without a word. “Wait!” Charlotte cried out. “You can at least let them have a proper goodbye!”

“Stay out of it,” Sidney spat at her. “This is none of your business.”

Otis kept walking. Georgiana called out his name, her voice breaking, but he didn’t look back. She stood there, crying, as he disappeared around the corner. When Otis was no longer visible, Sidney called for a taxi, gave the driver Georgiana’s address, and sent her back home. Charlotte didn’t understand any of what was happening, and just stood there, holding her bag of trash, trying to make sense of the scene in front of her. Sidney turned to look at her, as soon as the taxi pulled away.

“I thought we were on the same page,” he said, fighting to keep his voice level. “Didn’t we agree that she needed someone dependable? Someone to ‘have her back’? I should have known you couldn’t actually be trusted.” He raked her over with a look of icy contempt, and started to walk off, as angry with himself as he was with her. He’d gone over to her place almost as soon as he’d gotten back from London. If he’d had her number, he would have called first. He’d had a half-formed plan of inviting her to join him for pizza or something casual, and had been thinking all day about wanting to get to know her better. He should have known she was too good to be true. No woman could have been as perfect as she had seemed yesterday.

“And I should I have known that you didn’t actually give a damn about her happiness!” Charlotte called after him. He stopped, and turned back to her.

“I would suggest that you try not to judge a situation that you obviously don’t understand.”

“I understand perfectly well,” Charlotte retorted, stung by the way he was looking at her. It was as though yesterday had never happened, and they were right back at the Assembly Ball.

“Oh, of course you do,” he replied, his voice dripping with scorn. “Even though you’ve known Georgiana what, a week? And him just a few hours?”

“That’s enough time to know that he’s as decent a guy as I’ve ever met.”

Sidney looked at her in amazement. “You seem to find it impossible to tell the difference between the truth and your own imagination!”

“The truth? You want to talk about truth, Parker?” She took a few steps closer, her eyes blazing with indignation. “The truth is that you are so blinded by prejudice that you would judge a man by the colour of his skin alone.”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” Sidney said, his brow furrowing as he processed Charlotte’s accusation, but she kept going.

“Why should I expect any different from a man like you?”

“ENOUGH!” he shouted. A few people on the other side of the street paused, and looked at them before deciding to hurry along to wherever they were going. Charlotte and Sidney glared at each other for a few tense moments, before he remembered that they were on a public street. He took a deep breath, and stepped backwards. When he spoke again, his voice was quiet and cold. “I don’t need to explain myself to you. Go inside. We’re done here.” He gave her one last look of disgust, and walked away.

Charlotte realized that she was still holding her bag of garbage. She tossed it into the closest rubbish bin, but didn’t go back inside. A walk on the beach seemed a much better idea, but she opted to walk in the direction _away_ from the resort. If she saw that jackass, she’d turn and run in the other direction. But why had he been in front of her apartment anyway? For a fleeting moment, before he saw Otis, she would have sworn he was happy to see her. She knew that she had been glad to see him. Before.

She felt like crying, but wouldn’t let the tears fall. The look in his eyes just now…she had never had anyone look at her with that kind of contempt before. If he had looked at her like that two days ago, it wouldn’t have hurt nearly as much, because she would have expected it. Been prepared for it, even. But yesterday, something had seemed to shift between them, and she had looked at him through a new lens. She had started to think that maybe there was something between them, something that could become real and special. Clearly her judgement was as flawed as he’d accused…but not with respect to Otis. Maybe she was more superficial than she’d known, and had been fooled by his pretty face.

Consumed by her thoughts, she didn’t notice James until she’d run right into him. She apologized profusely, which he brushed aside. She tried to pretend that she was just out for an evening stroll, and he offered to walk beside her. After walking in silence for several minutes, Charlotte apologized for being such bad company.

“Not at all,” James disagreed. “After the day I’ve had, a walk in companionable silence is just what I needed.” After another moment, he asked her if something was bothering her. She sighed.

“I’m feeling a little ashamed of myself,” she answered. “I lost my temper in public. It’s not like me.”

“I’m sure you must have had a good reason, then,” he responded, logically.

“I did,” she replied emphatically. “Oh, believe me, I did.” She told herself to stop there, but then burst out, “Some people just inherently suck. You can try to convince yourself otherwise, but the more you get to know them, the more you realize just how much they suck.”

James tried not to smile, but couldn’t help it. “You don’t hold back, do you?”

“Maybe I should!” Charlotte exclaimed. “Maybe I’d be happier if I just tried to blend in, and kept my thoughts to myself.”

“Please don’t,” James said, stopping to look down at her. “I like you the way you are.”

She gave a little sigh, and tried to shake off her bad mood. “Thanks, James. I wish more guys were like you.” She gave him a little smile, and they continued walking. They soon turned around, and he walked her back to her flat. Just 24 hours ago, she’d been walking home with Sidney, and it had felt magical. As though she’d just stepped through a portal into a dimension of infinite possibilities. Tonight, she walked along the same streets, but the man beside her did not inspire that same sense of wonder. Instead, walking with James just made her feel even more strongly the sense that she had just lost something precious, before she had even managed to grasp it. As she lay in her bed- and yes, Georgiana had changed the sheets- her last conscious thought was to wonder if Sidney felt the same sense of loss. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You might have noticed that I've left out most of the Edward/Clara/Esther stuff. I'm really just focusing on what impacts Sidney and Charlotte. 
> 
> And with that, we move into Episode 5...


	12. Play the Straight and Narrow

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok, a small apology. When I started writing this adaptation, I had an idea of making the Regatta more like the cricket match (for the purposes of the Regency festival). But I just couldn't pull it off. So I've gone back and changed all references from "regatta" to "cricket". Looks like we're playing cricket after all! But don't worry- we'll still have our rowing scene when the right time comes! 
> 
> This chapter is a little shorter than usual, but I'm going offline for a day or so, and wanted to be sure you had something before that happened.

For the first time since arriving in Sanditon, Charlotte didn’t really want to leave her apartment. The cricket match didn’t start until 2:00pm, but there was so much to do to help set up the tents and refreshments, and then get back to her flat to change into her Regency garb, that she would probably head down to the beach around 11:00am. That gave her a good three hours to get her head on straight, and she didn’t want to bump into any of Sanditon’s cast of characters while she was brooding. The minute she stepped outside, she was too likely to get sucked into someone else’s drama, and right now she felt like she had enough of her own to deal with.

What happened yesterday? She had asked herself over and over again, and felt no closer to understanding. Sidney had accused her of judging a situation that she didn’t understand, and she was afraid that he might have had a point. Maybe she should have trusted her own instincts a little more, when Otis and Georgiana had turned up at her door and she thought that something wasn’t adding up. But what should she have done? Turned them away? What harm did it do to allow them a few hours alone? And how could she possibly have known not to?

For that matter, she thought, working herself up all over again, who says that she _shouldn’t_ have agreed? No one had given her any solid information that there was anything wrong. Ok, so Otis was a bunch of years older of Georgiana. A little unusual, maybe, but not wrong or weird. There was the private investigator thing, but if that had really turned up anything alarming, wouldn’t Georgiana know? And if she knew, and still wanted to be with Otis, wasn’t that her choice? Here Charlotte paused. 19 year olds weren’t exactly known for making wise personal choices, and Georgiana wasn’t exactly the most mature 19 year old. But _why_ had Sidney reacted to the sight of Otis with such anger? Could the answer be something as simple, and awful, as prejudice? That didn’t seem quite right either. Even if Sidney were as racist as Georgiana painted him, his reaction to Otis had seemed personal. What was she missing?

Frustrated with herself, frustrated with Sidney, Charlotte reached the unsatisfying conclusion that she would probably never really understand. She reminded herself that she didn’t really know any of these people- and thank you, Captain Condescension, for pointing that out last night- and that their problems weren’t actually her business. She was on vacation, dammit! This wasn’t her real life, and in another two weeks she would leave Sanditon and likely never see or hear from any of these people again.

Her resolve to focus on herself and her vacation lasted all of twenty minutes.

The sound of her buzzer startled her. She looked at her watch. It was only 9:00am. _‘Please be Mary, please be Arthur,’_ she prayed to whichever minor deity might watch over unannounced visitors. _‘Someone uncomplicated, I beg you._ ’ “Who is it?” she called through the intercom.

“It’s Georgiana. Can I come up? I brought you coffee.” _‘No such luck,’_ Charlotte thought, but she buzzed Georgiana in. Georgiana came bounding up the stairs, and dashed right into Charlotte’s flat, handing Charlotte the to-go cup before flopping down onto the sofa.

“Oh, Charlotte, this is a disaster! I don’t know what to do!”

Charlotte blinked, and sipped her coffee. _‘Maybe I should be praying to the god of Uneventfulness,’_ she thought. It was too early in the day for the amount of drama that Georgiana was exuding. “What’s happened since yesterday?” she asked.

“It’s Otis!” Georgiana cried out. “Charlotte, you have to help me. I don’t know who else I can talk to.”

“Is he still in Sanditon?” Charlotte asked, and was relieved when Georgiana shook her head in an emphatic negative.

“He took the train back to London yesterday. I had to call him four times before he would even answer. He’s so upset about the way Sidney treated him, and he said he refuses to sneak around like this any more.”

“Wait, he broke up with you?” Charlotte asked in surprise. “Because of Sidney?” What kind of man breaks up with his fiancé because her trust fund manager was a dick?

“No, but I think he will,” Georgiana said, her face crumpling. “He said he can’t live like this, but refuses to live without me. He told me that he’ll die if we can’t be together properly.”

“I think talk of his death is a little premature,” Charlotte said drily.

“I can’t take that chance! I need to figure out how we can get married.”

“Georgiana, calm down,” Charlotte said, sitting down beside her. “I’m sure he just means that being apart from you is hard. He can’t actually be threatening to harm himself unless you marry him. That’s not love. That’s manipulation.”

“Now you’re against Otis and me, too?” Georgiana cried out. “You think he’s manipulative, and that he doesn’t really love me?”

“That’s not what I said.” Charlotte fought for patience. “I just meant that I am confident that he was waxing poetic about the depths of his feelings, and was literally not threatening suicide. So there is no need to rush into some harebrained elopement scheme. It’s not like you’re going to dash off to Gretna Green in an all-night carriage ride across the border.”

“Gretna Green won’t work. Scotland has the same 28 day requirement that we have down here. I’ll have to find someplace outside the UK.”

Charlotte wasn’t sure which rattled her more- the obvious implication that Georgiana had already researched eloping, or that 28 days seemed too long to wait. Why was there suddenly so much pressure to get married immediately? Charlotte was a staunch advocate of love and romance, but this seemed a little preposterous. No matter how much you loved someone, surely you could hold out for 28 days. Something was really off here, and she felt out of her depth. Knowing all of those missing pieces of information would be really useful right about now, she thought, and fumbled through as best she could without them.

It took a good thirty minutes, but she thought she finally talked Georgiana down from the conviction that she needed to marry Otis immediately. By the time she left, Georgiana seemed calmer and more optimistic that they would come up with a better solution, and had agreed to meet Charlotte at the cricket match. It was a good thing that she’d brought Charlotte that coffee- it was only 9:30am and Charlotte felt drained. It did occur to her that perhaps she should find a way to let Sidney know about this new development, but she talked herself out of it. He’d made it very clear last night that Georgiana was not her concern, and that he didn’t think very highly of her judgement. Seeking him out would only lay her open to more of his disdain, and she’d already had more than enough. Besides, she rationalized, Otis was back in London, and Georgiana was no longer thinking of running off to marry him tomorrow. There was no emergency, and Georgiana would undoubtedly feel that Charlotte broke her trust if she tried to say anything to Sidney. Much better to just stay out of it entirely.

* * *

“Charlotte, dear, it’s quite safe to put down those sandwiches,” Mary said with a chuckle. “You’ve been holding them for at least five minutes.”

“What? Oh, I’m sorry!” Charlotte snapped back to herself, and hastily set down the platter in her hands. “It’s just all so exciting! I got distracted.” She gave Mary a sheepish smile, and was grateful that she accepted Charlotte’s pretty lame excuse and moved on to set out more food. Yes, it was exciting to see the beach transformed into an 18th century outdoor event, but that wasn’t why Charlotte had spaced out. She’d been thinking about Georgiana and Otis all day, and was questioning anew whether or not to say something to Sidney. The more she thought about the little bits she knew, the more she was convinced that something about this whole marriage idea wasn’t aboveboard. If only she could be sure that Sidney would actually listen to her, though! In her ideal scenario, she would go to him with what she knew, he would share what he knew, and the pieces would start to fit together. Together, they would figure out what was really going on, and if there were steps to be taken to make sure Georgiana was okay, then they would take them.

 _‘Get a grip, Charlotte,’_ she scolded herself, disgusted with where her imagination had gone. _‘You’re not some detective duo on a TV programme. There is no sharing of info, no ‘we’ or ‘us’ where Sidney Parker is concerned. No plurals. He thinks you’re an interfering twit, and you shouldn’t think about him at all.’_ She had just finished reminding herself of all the reasons why Sidney wouldn’t give her the time of day, if she tried approaching him to discuss Georgiana, when Mary made her aware of her surroundings. And now that she was paying attention, she noticed that Sidney himself was walking towards the food tent. She couldn’t stay there, not with so many people around. There was no way that she would be able to pull of being polite, and no way that she wanted anyone else to notice how little they got along. What was that old saying about discretion and valor? She slipped out of the tent before anyone noticed.

Sidney noticed. He saw Charlotte scurry out of the tent, walking in the opposite direction as fast as she could without running, and was pretty positive it was because she saw him approaching. He told himself that he didn’t care if Charlotte Heywood wanted to avoid him, and that he was relieved not to have to navigate small talk with her in front of Mary and Diana. He had no interest in cultivating any kind of friendship with some meddling girl who imagined him racist. Oh, that still stung. No matter how much he reminded himself that he barely knew Charlotte, that she barely knew him, and that her opinion of him was therefore completely worthless, it still rubbed him raw that she was so quick to believe something so despicable. Where did she get off accusing him of being racist? He didn’t despise Otis because he was black. He despised Otis because he was a manipulative con man. But did she bother _asking_ him? No, of course not! Why ask when you can spout some imaginative drivel based on the knowledge acquired over the last few hours? God forbid Charlotte Heywood actually acknowledge that there is something she doesn’t know!

Sidney need his best to shake off his mad. He loved playing in the annual cricket match, and had been tickled by Tom’s idea of setting it up in Regency style. Sanditon had an amateur cricket league, and Tom had convinced most of the players to play an extra ‘exhibition game’ today. The classist days of Gentlemen vs Labourers were long gone, of course, but the cricket league had been really good sports about being rebranded for one day. He had to admit, of all Tom’s ideas, this one was pretty fun, and was glad that Tom had managed to get him on a spot on the Gentlemen’s team. The tents, the food, the women in their flowy dresses that billowed in the slightest sea breeze…it was like he stepped into a time machine and had emerged in 1819. The only downside were the men’s clothes. It was hard to believe that men really played sports in collared shirts, waistcoats and these tight pants. He saw Babington and Crowe approach, and could barely keep a straight face. Crowe was wearing a blue coat that made him look like a peacock…and a rather drunk one at that. He joined up with his friends just in time to hear Tom ask, “Are you drunk??”

“No more than usual,” Crowe responded, his voice thoughtful, as he drew himself to his full height and almost lost his balance in the process. Tom gave him a look of mild disgust, which luckily went over Crowe’s head, while Babbers ducked his head to hide a smile. Crowe was a surprisingly decent friend, but he took the maxim ‘work hard, play hard’ just a little too literally. Anyone who met Crowe on vacation or a party would never believe he was the same serious barrister who could twist words into eloquent arguments before the Courts.

“It’s two o’clock, Tom,” Sidney pointed out to his brother. “Aren’t we supposed to be getting started now?”

“Is the match off?” Crowe asked, the merest hint of hope in his voice. “Back to the bar, then!”

“From one gentlemen’s pursuit to another.” Babington got a few chuckles, while Tom reassured everyone that the match was still on.

“No, no, we’re only missing a few players. James will be here with a few of his friends from the resort. They all play in the cricket league. I’m sure they just got held up with something work-related,” Tom said hastily. Sidney noticed that he looked worried, though, and wondered why the cricket match was so important as to cause that much anxiety. It was just a game, after all.

Out of the corner of his eye, Sidney noticed Charlotte and Georgiana deep in conversation. Georgiana seemed to be doing most of the talking, her mannerisms a little agitated. Charlotte, however, was perfectly calm and composed, and seemed to be trying to calm Georgiana down. He didn’t want to admit it, but it was clearly working. The longer they spoke together, the less Georgiana radiated nervous energy. Her shoulders relaxed, she began to smile…whatever Charlotte was saying was effective. He felt a pang of regret, and didn’t try to shove it aside. Maybe he had been a little harsh with her last night. Her accusations were insulting, but if he were honest with himself, he _had_ taken out more than a little bit of his anger with Otis out on Charlotte instead. He always said things he regretted when angry. Maybe, just maybe, she did too?

He wanted to be able to dismiss her as insignificant, but it was much harder to convince himself when she was around. Watching her talk to Georgiana, seeing her fitting in so easily with his siblings, it was harder to deny the uncomfortable reality that there was something about her that spoke to him. He couldn’t ignore her. Even sparring with her was better than not speaking with her at all. Sidney wondered if that ship had sailed, though. Based on the way she’d practically run from the refreshment tent, she had zero interest in speaking with him at all now. He couldn’t quite decide yet whether he wanted to try to change her mind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title is a lyric from the song "Cricket" by The Kinks.


	13. The Cricket Match

It was 2:15pm by the time the last few players finally showed up. James and three other employees from the resort came walking up to where Tom and Sidney stood. From their purposeful strides, one would imagine that they neither knew nor cared that they held up the cricket match. Tom shook hands with all of them, and it seemed to Charlotte, as she watched from one of the tents, that James gripped Tom’s hand a little harder than typical. She couldn’t hear what they were saying, but even from a small distance away, she thought she sensed a certain tension.

Sidney, standing right beside Tom, felt the tension clearly. It was in young James Stringer’s eyes as he looked at Tom and called him “Captain Parker”. It was in Fred Robinson’s tone when he asked Tom if there was going to be a prize for the winner.

“Glory!” Tom responded, drawing himself up to his full height, and taking a dramatic stance.

“Not money, then,” Fred shook his head, his eyes never leaving Tom’s. “Didn’t think so.”

Sidney was starting to wonder whether there were issues going on at the resort that Tom hadn’t mentioned. All of his conversations with Tom in the past weeks had been about the Regency festival, and his hopes and dreams for Sanditon. Sidney never asked about the resort, even though it was the main source of income for Tom and Mary. Tom was such an open book that Sidney had always assumed that he would tell Sidney if anything wasn’t going well. He told himself that he was likely misreading the situation. Tom couldn’t keep a secret if his life depended on it. Sidney was the only one of the Parker siblings who had ever mastered the ability to keep his cards close.

Mr. Hankins, the local librarian, was acting as umpire. For reasons Sidney could not figure out, he had opted to dress in the costume of an 18th century vicar. He flipped a coin, and Stringer called it, choosing to bat first. The men dispersed to their different sides of the field, and removed their jackets. Sidney wished he could ditch the top hat as well. How was he supposed to bowl with this thing on?

“Good luck, Mr. Stringer. Not that you’ll need it!” Sidney heard Charlotte’s voice only a few feet from where he was standing, and from the corner of his eye watched her approach James.

“Thank you, Miss Heywood,” he said, flashing her a smile. _‘Really,’_ thought Sidney in disgust, _‘who has that many teeth?’_

“You seem to have gathered several admirers already,” Charlotte said playfully, and glanced over at the Beaufort sisters who were, as usual, giggling.

James ducked his head, as though bashful, and grinned at Charlotte. “I hope you’re one of them,” he said, as he striped of his leather coat.

“Ask me again once I’ve seen you play,” she replied, her tone undeniably flirtatious. The wide smile on her face fell as soon as she turned around and saw Sidney standing nearby. Sidney tried his best to look as though he had not just been shamelessly eavesdropping. He tried equally hard to pretend that he was not feeling just the slightest bit jealous of Pretty Boy Stringer, because that would be absurd. What was it to him if Charlotte Heywood wanted to flirt with Stringer?

Charlotte knew Sidney must have seen her stop smiling, and she felt a little ashamed of how rude she must seem. She forced herself to speak to him, clinging to the shield of formality that 18th century mannerisms provided.

“And good luck to you too, Mr. Parker,” she said stiffly. “Although I imagine you don’t think you’ll need it.” She winced inwardly. She hadn’t quite been able to keep the snark from slipping out.

Sidney gave a mirthless little chuckle, and took a sip from his water bottle. “Yet more assumptions, Miss Heywood?” Neither dared say anything else, and they each walked away a moment later, equally dissatisfied and equally unable to admit to themselves the reason why.

Sidney walked onto the field, and snapped his fingers for the ball. Cricket might officially have 42 laws, but it sure was less complicated than a conversation with Charlotte. For the next few hours, he could just focus on the game. Or he would, if he didn’t keep noticing her powder blue outfit every time he looked at the fans. Why couldn’t she wear tan or beige, or something else that would just blend in with the sand? How was he supposed to concentrate when she was just so hard to ignore? He couldn’t help glancing at the crowd again. Maybe it was his imagination, or his vanity, but he thought she was watching him, and not James ‘I Have a Fan Club’ Stringer. He saw that Stringer was the first batter, and felt a rush of rivalry that had nothing to do with the cricket match.

* * *

It was a surprisingly fun match to watch. Many of the Sanditon cricket players were really good, and even some of the amateurs were solid players. Sidney was a very decent bowler, Charlotte noticed, and James was even better. He’d taken an impressive number of wickets. She couldn’t quite decide which team to root for, and decided to cheer for everyone equally. If that meant that she did not have to feel silly cheering for Sidney, well, that was just a fringe benefit.

She watched Tom walk onto the field, bat in hand. The Labourers only needed one more out, and she couldn’t blame them if they felt a little confident. Tom didn’t have his younger brother’s athletic ability, and was definitely no match for James’ bowling skills.

The first ball came very close to Tom’s head. He ducked, and gave James a glare, before remembering that they had an audience and forcing a friendly smile. James gave a little smirk, and prepared to bowl again.

The ball bounced once on the sand, and hit Tom’s shin. The Labourers starting cheering, declaring themselves the winners. “Leg before wicket!” James exulted. “It’s leg before wicket!”

“No, sorry, I really don’t think it was,” Tom called, refusing to move away.

“You’re out!” Fred cried angrily.

“Now listen,” Tom tried again, “I really don’t think I am.”

“His leg stopped the ball from hitting the stumps,” James insisted, looking over to the umpire. “He’s got to be out.” They all turned to Mr. Hankins, who hesitated just a moment before declaring “Out!”

The Labourers began to congratulate each other on their victory. Tom, however, wouldn’t let it drop. “Now come along,” Tom said. “Fair is fair. Be reasonable. The ball was nowhere near the wicket!” From the sidelines, the crowd began to fidget a little uncomfortably. This was becoming a little awkward to watch.

“I might have known you’d try to cheat!” James’s friend, Fred, said angrily. “Your type always does. No thought for anyone but yourself!”

“Don’t talk to my brother like that,” Sidney interjected.

“And why not?” James scoffed. “He hasn’t paid the resort staff in weeks.” The gasps from the spectators was probably audible on the field. All the players looked at Tom, who was staring at the chalk-white face of his appalled wife. Awkward reached an all new level. No one said a word, either on the field or on the sidelines.

“I’m sorry,” Mr. Hankins said, trying to break the tension. “In the heat of the moment, I made a mistake. Not out.” Tom, still silent, dropped the bat he’d been clutching, and stalked off the sandy field. Sidney rushed after him, calling his name. No one could hear what they said to one another, but Charlotte saw Sidney attempt to put a hand on his brother’s back, only to be shaken off. Tom kept walking, heading back to town, while Sidney stopped and looked back at the players and spectators. Most of them looked back at him, and the retreating figure of his brother. Several looked at Mary. She got up, and left the beach as well, following her husband. Charlotte watched her go, not sure whether she should go after her or not. She wasn’t sure if it was cowardice or prudence that had her stuck to her chair. She turned back to the field just as James called out to Sidney.

“You don’t have another player to replace him,” he pointed out. “We win.” The players on The Gentlemen began to murmur. It was a really crappy way to lose the match.

Charlotte got up from her seat, and started walking towards the players. “I’ll play!” she called out. She couldn’t let the day end like this. She owed the Parkers too much for their kindness and hospitality to her. A few of the men snickered. James smiled, clearly proud of her daring. The people behind her murmured. She was certainly giving people something other than Tom to talk about.

“Ahh….” Mr. Hankins started to protest. “Wasn’t cricket a gentlemen’s pursuit?”

“Maybe,” she acknowledged, as she reached the knot of players. “But this isn’t really 1819, is it?”

“Thank god,” Crowe muttered.

Sidney looked at Charlotte, and then at the men behind him, his mind whirling. If they kept playing, maybe most of the people watching would forget about the revelation of Tom’s mismanagement of the resort. Charlotte had made herself the focal point, and he was pretty sure she had done so on purpose. “You heard the umpire. He was wrong,” he said, handing the bat to Charlotte. “My brother wasn’t out. We play on.” His eyes met hers, as they both held the bat. She gave him the merest hint of a nod, barely perceptible to anyone but him. He returned it, dropping his eyes and turning away. Stringer gave her a respectful nod, as the spectators began to clap and the players returned to their positions.

Charlotte removed her blue jacket, wishing she were in a sports bra and proper athletic clothes instead of this flimsy dress. Her hair blew across her face, and she thought longingly of the hair elastics on the bathroom counter in her flat. She took her place at the wicket as Sidney approached her.

“Keep your eye on the ball, alright?” he advised.

“Thanks, I know what I’m doing,” she told him, using every ounce of self-control to keep her voice pleasant.

“If you can’t make the run, just stay put.”

“Yes, thank you. I know exactly what I’m doing,” she repeated. “Now quit mansplaining. I’m trying to concentrate, and you’re distracting me.”

“Alright,” he said, his lips twitching. He walked back to the other wicket, looking at her once more, with that ghost of a smile in his eyes.

James threw the ball, noticeably gentler than he’d thrown it at Tom. Charlotte got a solid hit, and took off for the other wicket as Sidney ran towards hers. She knew she must look ridiculous, running in her Regency costume dress, but she could hear Arthur cheering her on enthusiastically over the claps of the spectators. Sidney looked over at her, and couldn’t stop himself from smiling. In the privacy of his own mind, he could admit that she looked adorable.

James threw the ball again, much harder this time. Sidney whacked it with his bat, and he and Charlotte took off again. He could hear Charlotte laughing as she ran past him.

“They only need one more run to win!” Fred called out to James. “Don’t go soft on her!”

“Don’t need to tell me that,” James replied, as he prepared to bowl again. Sidney stood at his wicket, that same smile still on his face. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d had so much fun playing cricket.

James started his run hard, and then slowed down and lobbed the ball gently towards Charlotte. She hit it, and ran to the opposite wicket. The crowd cheered, as the players began to congratulate each other. She met Sidney halfway between the two wickets.

“Is that a smile I detected?” she asked, breathless from trying to run in an empire-waist dress.

“Oh, I doubt it,” Sidney denied. They stood two feet apart from each other, eyes locked, both feeling the pull that drew them and both fighting it. Charlotte broke her gaze first, her eyes sweeping down and then up, as she backed away with a coy smile. She turned and saw James standing behind her.

“I’m sorry you lost, James, but thank you for going easy one me,” she said, trying to forget that Sidney was standing right behind her. “It was very chivalrous of you.”

“You won fair and square,” James insisted. “Maybe we’ll play on the same team next time?”

“I’d like that,” Charlotte replied, totally oblivious to any hidden meaning in James’s suggestion. She handed him the bat, and then ran off to Diana and Arthur. Somehow, within a few minutes, she found herself standing slightly apart with Sidney again. She cocked her head to one side, pushing her hair out of her face.

“Well done, Miss Heywood,” he said, his dark eyes warm and his tone full of meaning. She smiled shyly. “Thank you,” she said softly. It was all she could think of. Despite how little time they’d known each other, there was too much between them for a casual high-five or typical sports banter. The tension between then was impossible to deny this time. They both knew it, but neither knew what to do about it.

* * *

Charlotte sighed happily as she put on yoga pants and a tank top. She’d washed the sand and sweat off as soon as she’d gotten back to her flat, and it was such a relief to be in 21st century clothes again. She imagined that the guys all felt the same way. Those tight breeches could not have been comfortable to run in either! She bundled her hair up into a messy bun, grateful for the existence of elastics. This wasn’t exactly how she’d imagined the cricket match to have gone, but it had definitely been a memorable day!

She debated reaching out to Mary. She had no clue what was going on with Tom and the resort, but knew she should say something supportive. She wasn’t sure what, though. Mary felt like family, but Charlotte had really only known her a few weeks. Would it seem nosy if she texted? Maybe she should stop by tomorrow in person instead?

The sound of her buzzer surprised her. As she walked to the intercom, she assumed that it would be Georgiana again. She was the only person who had a habit of dropping by unannounced. “Who is it?” she called, mentally prepping herself for another round of Otis-related drama.

“It’s Sidney.” Surprised, and flustered, she buzzed him in without saying anything else. She looked down in dismay at her clothes. What would he think when she opened the door dressed like this? Too late now, she reasoned, and went to open the door just as he reached her floor.

“Is Georgiana here?” he demanded, by way of greeting. He walked right in to Charlotte’s flat, looking around as though expecting Georgiana to pop out from behind the curtains.

“No, she isn’t,” Charlotte said, mystified, as she closed the door. “I haven’t seen her since the cricket. Why?”

“She’s missing.”


	14. Road Trip!

“What do you mean, ‘she’s missing’?” Charlotte asked. Sidney kept pacing back and forth, clearly distressed, but Charlotte was too confused to feel any sense of alarm.

“She was supposed to help Mrs. Griffiths and her crew clean up the beach after the cricket match. She didn’t. No one remembers seeing her since the start of the cricket.”

“That doesn’t mean she’s missing,” Charlotte pointed out logically. “She could be in her room. Or getting something to eat.”

“She’s not in her room. I checked there first, as soon as Mrs. Griffiths told me that she’d failed to put in her hours. Half of her clothes are gone. And she’s not answering my calls or texts. No one has seen her in hours.”

“Wait, why would Mrs. Griffiths tell you?”

Sidney sighed, impatient with having to explain. “Georgiana owes a certain number of community service hours. She missed all of them yesterday,” he shot her an annoyed look that she had no difficulty deciphering, “and this makes the second day in a row. If she doesn’t complete them, she’ll have to go back before a judge. I’m trying to help her avoid that.” Charlotte made no response. She took out her phone, and tried ringing Georgiana. No answer. “I had hoped that she had come here again. But now I have no clue where to look.”

“Did she take her passport?” Charlotte suddenly asked. Sidney looked at her sharply.

“Why would you ask that?” He stepped closer to her. “You know something, don’t you?”

Charlotte picked up a sofa cushion, and began kneading it in her hands nervously. “Yes…no…I’m not sure. Maybe.” She bit her lower lip. She was doubting her earlier decision not to tell him about her conversation with Georgiana earlier. “She did come here, but early this morning, long before the cricket. But by the time she left, I really thought she was more rationale, and she didn’t give even the smallest hint at the cricket that she was going to do something so reckless.”

“Do what?” Sidney demanded. “What did she tell you?” 

“She…she said that Otis was giving her ultimatums. You know, like ‘I can’t keep doing this’ stuff that she thought meant he was about to leave her.” Charlotte began to speak very quickly, her words tripping over themselves. “He was making threats of self-harm if she didn’t marry him now. Like, _now_ now. Not even wait a few weeks type of now. She was frantic when she came here, and had already been researching where they could get married quickly. I guess she felt desperate and wouldn’t be stopped.”

“What?!” Sidney said, his tone rising. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I told _her_ that she needed to calm down,” Charlotte defended herself, “and I thought she had! When she left this morning, she said that she wouldn’t let him manipulate her into any major decisions. And when I saw her right before the cricket, she was calm and hopeful that there was a better solution. She must have spoken to him again sometime after that, and he changed her mind again. I swear, I never in a million years thought she would run off tonight.”

“You should have told me!” he shouted at her. He resumed his pacing, running a hand through his hair. Charlotte noticed for the first time that he was still in his cricket outfit. He must have been so upset that he hadn’t even gone back to the resort to change into normal clothes. She felt another pang of guilt for not speaking up sooner, but she was not about to own all of this.

“When?” she shot back, her own voice rising. “Was I supposed to call you on the phone number I don’t have for you? Shown up at your room at the resort? You made it crystal clear last night that _this is none of my business_ , remember? The last time we’d spoken, you insulted my judgement and called me untrustworthy. Enlighten me as to why I would have come to you after that.”

“You’d let a girl like Georgiana put herself in danger because I hurt your feelings?” he asked in disbelief. “If anything happens to her, it’s on your head. I hope you can live with that.” He turned to walk out of her apartment, but she stopped him. She’d had enough of his dramatic mic-dropping exits.

“Don’t you dare walk away from me like this,” she practically growled. He turned back towards her in surprise. “This is _not_ my fault. As you yourself so righteously pointed out last night, I barely know Georgiana. I don’t know you either, for that matter. But ask yourself why Georgiana came to _me_ , a stranger, instead of you. Then get your head out of your ass, and we can go find her.”

“ _We_ aren’t going to go do anything. _I_ am going to London, and you are staying out of this.”

“You can’t have it both ways, Parker,” she scoffed. “Either this is on my head, or it’s none of my business. If the first, then it’s my responsibility to fix. If the second, well, then you’ve got some nerve coming to my flat and biting my head off for the fiftieth time since we met.” She was pleased to see that he did not have a snappy comeback. He stood, looking at her with a bemused expression, as though she had suddenly morphed into a creature he didn’t recognize. “Maybe I should have swallowed my pride and said something to you. I’ll own that much. But Georgiana makes her own decisions, and you can’t blame me for her choices.”

“Fine,” he said curtly. “I take it back. Happy?”

“It’s a start,” she acknowledged. “Give me ten minutes to throw some things in a bag, and change. Then we’ll go to the resort, and you can do the same.”

“I just said this isn’t your damn fault,” he said. “You’re not coming.”

“No, it’s not my fault, but I’ll help you fix it anyway. She’s not exactly going to hear you out, once you manage to find her. She despises you, remember?” He seemed to deflate slightly, as the truth of what she said penetrated his thick skull. “She came to _me_ this morning. She’ll more likely listen to me now. You want her safe and sound, Parker? I’m coming with, and that’s final.”

“You get five minutes, tops,” he snarled, needing to feel some semblance of control. “Just throw some things in a bag. No time to change.”

“I’m not running all over London in my pyjamas!”

He actually hadn’t noticed, being so focused on his concern for Georgiana and his frustration with Charlotte. He didn’t know what he would have done differently, had he known that Otis was pressuring Georgiana to get married immediately, but he liked to think that he could somehow have prevented her running off. But now he was suddenly very aware that he was alone in a flat with Charlotte, and that she was not wearing as much as usual. The tank top had a deep scoop neck, and was made of some soft stretchy material that clung to her very impressive curves. His mouth went dry. There is no way he could drive 2 hours to London with her looking like this. He gave in.

“Fine, ten minutes,” he gave in rather ungraciously. He sat down on the sofa, as Charlotte went into the other room and closed the door. Turns out that he wasn’t so worried about Georgiana that he could ignore the fact that she was taking off her clothes just one room away. This whole evening must be one of Dante’s levels of hell. It was the only rational explanation.

* * *

In less than thirty minutes, they were in Sidney’s car on the way to London. They had barely spoken a word between her flat and the resort, other than what was necessary to get on their way. Sidney had to give her credit for being a fast packer. He didn’t think he knew any other woman who could throw a bag together and change clothes in less than ten minutes. It had taken her eight. She made sure he was aware of that when she’d locked up her flat. It had taken him fourteen, but he blamed the damn Regency clothes for that. Too many blasted buttons everywhere.

In the quiet of the car, Sidney had to admit that Charlotte was turning out to be a very fast thinker. She had recognized immediately, and accurately, that Georgiana wouldn’t give Sidney the time of day if he found her. Charlotte did stand a better chance of talking her out of whatever scheme she and Otis had concocted. And without Charlotte, he would not have known that Georgiana was likely trying to leave the UK to get married. For that information alone, he owed her. He glanced over at her. She’d put on a simple long-sleeved green shirt and jeans, but he couldn’t erase the image of her in that tank top from his memory. Her arms were crossed as she looked out the window. He wondered what she was thinking, and whether or not he dared ask. He didn’t have to wonder for long.

Charlotte sensed, more than saw, Sidney look her way. Her brain had been working triple-time since she’d left her flat, trying to figure out the most logical next step to finding Georgiana and trying to reason away her frustration with Sidney. How dare he blame her? Didn’t he see his own part in all of this? Finally, she couldn’t keep it inside anymore.

“If you’d only been honest with me!” she blurted out, turning towards him. “If you had told me you had concerns about Otis, I’d have known what to say when she came to me!”

“I could not have been any clearer,” Sidney loudly spoke over her, “about my feelings for Mr. Molyneaux.”

“You were so vague!” she retorted. “You didn’t give a single reason for your antipathy! No explanation!”

“Oh, so you made up your own.” His derision dripped heavily. “You baselessly accused me of prejudice.”

“Hardly baseless, considering what they told me about you,” she responded scornfully.

“Oh, for god’s sake!” he exploded. “Did it ever occur to you that neither one of them is exactly unbiased? Yes, I despise Otis Molyneux, but the man’s race plays no part in that.”

“I can think of no other reason for your hostility.” She knew her voice sounded prim and snippy, but she was feeling far less sure of herself than when she’d started talking. She knew, of course, that Otis and Georgiana were pretty biased against Sidney, but it hadn’t occurred to her that they might have exaggerated or fabricated the reasons why. Hadn’t she felt that something in Georgiana’s story didn’t quite add up? Yet she’d been so quick to accuse Sidney of being prejudiced anyway.

“Are you really that naïve?” Sidney asked in disbelief. How could she be so clear-headed and so oblivious at the same time? “Why do _you_ think he’s so desperate to marry her? He’s about to lose his visa, and she’s his ticket to staying in the UK. The fact that she happens to be rich is just icing. Who needs a work visa if they have a rich wife?”

Charlotte didn’t know what to say. She hadn’t thought of that, but she’d have bitten off her tongue before admitting it to Sidney. “So where do we look first?” she changed the subject. “She needs her passport, a plane ticket…what else?”

“Her passport would probably be back at her flat. We can look there, but I’m guessing she’s long gone.”

“And Otis? Where does he live?”

“I don’t know. But I know someone who will.” He told her not to say another word, and then used the voice command in his car to call someone named Beecroft. Charlotte listened in silence while Sidney informed this Beecroft guy that he’d be in London in under two hours, and wanted a copy of the Molyneux file. She was wise enough not to ask any questions once the call ended.

Charlotte wasn’t familiar with the part of London that Sidney drove into, but she wasn’t too bothered by having to stay in the car when they pulled up in front of a rather dodgy looking office building. Sidney told her to lock the doors, which she did, but she was still glad when he came back out in under ten minutes with a large envelope. She’d worked out for herself that Beecroft was likely the private investigator that Georgiana had mentioned. The envelope looked pretty thick. Whatever Mr. Beecroft had found, it was a considerable amount.

“There’s no address,” Sidney told her, as he slid behind the wheel. “Turns out Otis stopped paying rent right around the time he lost his job. He’s been couch surfing with his so-called friends for the past month.” Charlotte opened her mouth to ask a question, but then closed it again. “Go ahead, say whatever it is you want to say.”

“Ask, actually,” she hesitantly said. “I know it’s none of my business, but I can’t help wishing that I understood what was really going on. Otis lost his job? And that’s why he wants to marry Georgiana?”

Sidney nodded. He turned the car back on, and began to drive away. “He’s been here for 3 years on a general work visa. His contract was terminated after he was found to be making some unethical decisions. Nothing illegal, mind you, but hazy enough that his employers thought it best to part ways. This was about 6 weeks ago. 5 weeks ago, he would have received notice from the Home Office that his visa was being cancelled. Lambe and I should have realized that he would try something like this!”

“I…I don’t know anything about visas and immigration,” Charlotte admitted. “Why the rush to marry Georgiana?”

“He would have been given 60 days to either find a new work sponsor or leave the country. Without a good reference from his last boss, he must have decided that marrying Georgiana and having her sponsor him as her partner was the easier route. According to Beecroft, Molyneaux has been telling all of his cronies that a wedding was imminent.”

“So he’s running out of time, and that’s why he won’t even wait the 28 days to get married here,” Charlotte added, finally seeing the pieces fall into place. “Where do we go next?”

“Honestly? I have no clue.”

“I can’t give up,” Charlotte said, her voice earnest. “We can’t be out of options so soon.”

“Then what do you suggest?” Sidney asked. “They’ll be halfway to god-knows-where by now.”

“But what if they’re not?” Charlotte pressed. “There can’t be all that many places that they can easily get to that will also marry people quickly. At least, I don’t think there are.” She took out her phone, and started tapping.

“What are you doing?” he asked, genuinely puzzled.

“For starters, I’m looking to see what international flights are still leaving tonight, and all day tomorrow. If she had to go to her own flat for her passport, she can’t be all that far ahead of us. It’s possible she’s still in London, even.”

“So we go to the airport, and lie in wait?”

“If need be, but I hope not,” Charlotte replied, distracted by her phone. “Crap, that’s too many flights to sort through. Ok, new strategy. Where are the best places to elope?”

“I’m sorry, what?”

“People try to avoid doing the whole splashy wedding thing all the time. So I thought I’d look up where the best places….bingo!” she exclaimed. “US…too far and too expensive, I’m guessing. New Zealand…even worse. Denmark….maybe…nope, takes two weeks. Gibraltar…hang on…this might be it!” she looked up excitedly.

“What did you find?”

“Gibraltar is less than a 3 hour flight away, tickets are under £100 each, and you can get married there after 24 hours. The last flight left at 3pm. I saw her at the cricket in Sanditon around 2pm, so there’s no way she could have been on that flight. Next one is tomorrow at 10am.”

“That seems a long shot, Charlotte.”

“Is there any way to find out if either of them have bought a plane ticket?”

“I don’t think so. Georgiana gets monthly payments from her trust, but she pays her own bills.”

Charlotte wrinkled her nose. “I hate dead ends.”

“Maybe this one won’t be,” Sidney suggested, parking the car in neighbourhood much nicer than the last. “This is where Georgiana lives. She had to have come back here at some point. If we’re lucky, she’s still here.”

“Which flat is hers?” Sidney pointed to the corner unit on the 2nd floor. “The lights are off. That’s not promising.” Charlotte paused for a moment. “Do you happen to know the landlord’s name?”

“Actually, yes. Mrs. Harries. You ask very strange questions, you know that?”

“Grab your bag. I have an idea.” She grabbed her own bag, and scrambled out of the car. For the life of him, he couldn’t figure out what she was planning, and had very little confidence that it would work. He took his bag from the back seat, and followed behind her.


	15. The Nearness of You

By the time Sidney caught up with her, she had already rung Georgiana’s buzzer. Twice.

“She’s not answering,” Charlotte said, glancing up at him. “Guess that would have been too easy. Ok, Plan B.” She buzzed Mrs. Harries.

“What are you doing?” Sidney hissed, but she didn’t answer. She was responding to Mrs. Harries through the intercom instead.

“Hi, Mrs. Harries? It’s Charlotte, Georgiana’s friend? Do you have a minute? It’s really important.” Charlotte used a chipper, almost ditzy tone that he had never heard come out of her mouth before. Mrs. Harries agreed to come to the door, and Sidney turned Charlotte to face him.

“What are you doing?” he asked again, his hand still on her arm.

“Acting,” she said. “Try to smile and look happy. If you know how.” The front door opened, and she put on a mega-watt smile as she turned to Mrs. Harries. Charlotte had been expecting some grey-haired granny type, not the cougar wannabe who came to the door. Charlotte didn’t think she even owned as much makeup as Mrs. Harries was wearing.

“Oh, thank you so much for coming down!” Charlotte gushed. “Has Georgie been here yet tonight? I thought we were meeting now, but she’s not answering and it’s ever so important that we find her.”

“Yes, she was here not half an hour ago, with that handsome young man of hers. Said they were flying off to get married tomorrow. Can’t blame her for trying to tie that one down.” Mrs. Harries looked Sidney over, and gave him a little wink. She was probably a good 15-20 years older than him, but you could tell that she was still very confident of her appeal to attractive young men. “You’ve got yourself a handsome one, too, don’t you, dearie?” she said to Charlotte, her eyes still scoping Sidney. He didn’t know where to look.

Charlotte giggled. Sidney hadn’t known that Charlotte Heywood was capable of giggling. “Right?! Isn’t he dreamy? Oh, don’t be like that, sweetie,” she said to Sidney, bumping his arm playfully, and then turning back to the landlady and said in a stage whisper, “He’s actually very modest. I think we’re embarrassing him.” She rushed on, switching back to her overly cheerful voice. “Anyway, did Georgie or Otis say when they’d be back tonight? We’re supposed to be meet up before our trip tomorrow.” She held up her overnight bag.

Mrs. Harries looked surprised, and suspicious. “You’re going with them?”

“Of course!” Charlotte exclaimed, with another giggle. “We’re their witnesses! When she said they were going to get married, I just couldn’t let her have two total randos witness for her. What kind of friend would I be? So Sid and I insisted on being there, and we’re all on the same flight tomorrow. Isn’t that exciting? But I guess it took longer for us to get here than we thought, and now we’re stuck waiting for them, lugging these bags around. I don’t suppose you could let us wait in Georgie’s flat?” Her voice trailed up hopefully. Her elbow nudged Sidney, which he supposed was some kind of cue.

“We’d be ever so grateful, Mrs. Harries,” he chimed in, leaning into the door jamb, and used his best bedroom voice. He tried adding his most flirtatious smile. Based on the leer the landlady gave him, it was the right tactic. She agreed to let them in, commenting on what a lucky young woman Charlotte was. She allowed Charlotte and Sidney to precede her up the stairs, which he was certain was only so she could ogle his ass. It was a good thing that he knew which flat was Georgiana’s, or else Charlotte’s whole plan would have fallen apart. Within a few minutes, they were safely inside the flat, with the door shut behind them. Sidney felt the need for a shower after that, but he couldn’t deny that Charlotte’s plan had been successful. He turned to his rather surprising companion, who had just let out a huge sigh of relief as soon as the door closed. She sank down onto the sofa.

“What was _that_?” he asked her. “Who _are_ you?”

“ _That_ was exhausting,” Charlotte replied. “I think I killed off some of my own brain cells.” She stretched out on the sofa, and covered her eyes with her arm. “Do you suppose Georgiana has any Nurofen?”

“Don’t you mean ‘Georgie’?” he asked, as he went into the bathroom to rummage around. Taking the pills, he went into the kitchen for a glass of water, and then brought them both to Charlotte. “Here. And what’s the brilliant plan now? We wait around and go through her medicine cabinet until they get back?”

Charlotte sat up, taking the pills and water from him. She downed them quickly, and set the glass on the coffee table, before giving a little shrug. “I hadn’t thought it through this far,” she admitted. “It was a pretty spur-of-the-moment plan, you know. So…yes?”

It got awkward very quickly. Sidney paced the living room for a while. Charlotte flipped though some magazines, without knowing what she read or looked at. Charlotte definitely hadn’t considered that she’d be stuck waiting in a strange flat with Sidney for who knows how long. Should she try to make conversation? Sitting on the couch chatting seemed weirdly cozy and intimate. Then again, leaving him to pace and brood was making her feel fidgety. Every now and then, she would glance over at him. Sometimes, she could feel him looking at her. Neither said a word.

After a solid 20 minutes of this, Charlotte stood up and brought the glass back to the kitchen, for lack of anything else to do. Georgiana’s flat had an open layout, with the living room leading right to the kitchen. There was a small island in the kitchen, so Charlotte placed the glass there, and then turned around, leaning against the island. Sidney was still pacing.

She thought over everything Sidney shared during their car ride, and it still didn’t fully explain why he loathed the guy so much. Was it so awful to want to stay in the UK? Charlotte didn’t know where Otis was from, but maybe going home wasn’t really an option for him. Then again, Sidney had said he’d been on a work visa, not that he had refugee status, so she couldn’t assume that there were barriers to returning to his country of origin. She could understand why Mr. Lambe wouldn’t want some guy marrying his impressionable young daughter just to stay in the country. On the other hand, what if his feelings for Georgiana were genuine _and_ he had immigration issues? She felt like her brain was doing cartwheels, trying to make sense of all this. She couldn’t take the weird silence any more.

“Is Otis really such a terrible person? Aside from the visa thing?” she asked suddenly, surprising him by speaking.

Sidney looked over at her, but did not stop pacing. “He is a total fraud. I’m shocked his employer didn’t fire him a long time ago. He owes money to at least two loan sharks, according to Beecroft. He can’t be trusted.”

Charlotte tried to assimilate this new bit of information. “Maybe he’s a good man, who has made a few terrible mistakes,” she suggested. “Is it so impossible to consider that he really does love Georgiana and wants what’s best for her?”

“And yet here we are, trying to stop her from running off to Gibraltar or wherever with him,” Sidney pointed out softly. Charlotte couldn’t maintain eye contact. He was right, of course. If everything between Otis and Georgiana were really aboveboard, they wouldn’t be here right now. And in fairness, she would have some reservations about a 26 or 27 year old wanting to up and marry her teenage sister, even if he was a fantastic guy.

“All I cared about was Georgiana’s happiness!” she blurted out, unable to let him have the last word. Despite whatever she had said in Sanditon, she was feeling somewhat responsible for everything he had been through in the past several hours. He seemed so genuinely distraught at the idea of Georgiana marrying this guy.

“What do you think _I_ care about?” he asked incredulously, walking towards the kitchen.

“That is anyone’s guess,” she shot back. He stopped walking, and stared at her for a few seconds. He shook his head and turned back to walk in the opposite direction again.

“I have done everything I can for Georgiana,” he said, his tone dismissive.

“No!” Charlotte refuted. “You’ve done everything your job said you were supposed to do. You say that worry about her, but expect everyone else to step up and care for her. If you truly cared about her wellbeing, you would have been her friend yourself.”

“’Friend’ is not a job I either wanted or asked for,” he pointed out.

“Of course not,” she scoffed. “Because that would require letting down your barriers. God forbid you should actually let someone in.”

Sidney started walking back towards her, trying to keep his emotions in check. It stung more than he liked to hear her describe him as walled off. “Do not create some fanciful backstory about _me_ , Charlotte. You don’t know me. You said so yourself.”

“How could anyone know you?” she challenged. “You make a point of being unknowable.” She pushed off the kitchen island, to stand straight. She didn’t like feeling dwarfed by him, especially when she was trying to stand her ground. She wasn’t even sure they were talking about Georgiana anymore. “All I know is that you can’t stomach the idea that two people might actually be in love.”

“What do _you_ know of love?” he asked mockingly, stopping a few steps away from her. “Apart from what you’ve read?”

She wouldn’t let him score a point with that. Maybe she had never been in love, or even in a serious relationship, but he didn’t know that. And she didn’t need experience to know that love was real. “I would rather be naïve than cold and unfeeling,” she retorted, putting as much scorn into her voice as she could.

Sidney moved fast. In the blink of an eye, he had her pressed between him and the kitchen island, one arm snaked around her waist. Her hands instinctively came to his chest, and she could feel his heart begin pounding as fast as hers. His eyes locked onto hers, and then drifted down to her lips and back up again. “Is that really what you think of me? That I’m cold and unfeeling?” he asked softly. His voice was deep and gravelly, and she could feel it reverberate along every nerve in her body. He bent his head to murmur in her ear. “Do I seem cold and unfeeling right now?” His breath tickled, and she fought the urge to shiver. She wasn’t the least bit cold, and wasn’t sure she would ever feel cold again. Charlotte didn’t trust herself to speak. She was pressed so firmly against him that she was very, very aware of just how much he was _feeling_ at the moment. She swallowed hard, staring at the buttons on his shirt. She was surrounded by the heat and scent of him, and it made her want to curl her fingers and grip his shirt, pulling him closer. She forced her fingers to remain flat, and willed herself to breathe. She didn’t dare look up. There would be no turning back if she did.

Sidney stared down at the top of her head, noticing for the first time the way the light shone in her dark hair and gilded the strands that escaped. Every breath took in the warm scent of her, and it was messing with his head. He wanted to bend his head down again, and inhale the spot just behind her ear, and then follow with his lips. He tightened his arm, feeling the way her body fit against his. It was easy, maybe even too easy, to imagine what would happen if she looked at him, and beyond tempting to make it happen. He knew, deep in his bones, that she was feeling everything he felt. Perhaps they had been heading here all along…but this wasn’t the time or place. He forced himself to release her, and took a step back. Her hands fell to her sides, and she looked at him, her beautiful brown eyes dark and confused. “I’m sorry you think that,” he finally said. “My life would be much easier if it were true.” He went back to pacing in the living room, needing to put some space between them.

Charlotte remained immobile next to the island as he walked away. No longer surrounded by his heat, she felt almost chilled. There was a Sidney-sized vacuum in the air around her. Whatever just happened- and it was most certainly _something_ that just happened- had taken her completely by surprise. One minute they were snapping at each other, which was pretty much their norm, and the next they were fused together and time stood still. Her fingertips still tingled from the feel of his shirt fabric. She let out a breath, realizing that she had been unconsciously holding it since he moved away. It took several moments for her brain to start functioning again, but once it did she felt more confused than ever. He had sounded almost sad, when he let her go, and she couldn’t help but wonder why. It couldn’t be that her opinion of him actually mattered. Could it? She watched him pace, unable to take her eyes off him. Her heart refused to settle down, and she knew that she would be replaying that moment in her mind over and over again without coming any closer to understanding it.

Sidney didn’t look at her. He couldn’t. He knew his own limits, and one look into those eyes of hers would break him. If it weren’t for Georgiana, he’d leave the flat and go for a long, bracing walk. There wasn’t enough distance here for his peace of mind. He briefly considered going into the other room, until he recollected that there was a bed in it. What if she followed him, to share some other ridiculous theory of hers? The last thing he needed was to end up in an argument with Charlotte near a bed. That damn kitchen island had been bad enough. It would have been nothing to lift her onto it, and wrap her legs around his waist while… _‘Penguins. Jackson Pollock. Mass extinction of dinosaurs. Taxidermy.’_ Sidney began listing in his head all of the least-arousing things he could think of. The list was getting pretty long, when he heard the unmistakable sound of a key in the lock. He immediately looked over at Charlotte. She looked back at him, her face pale, and instinctively moved to stand next to him. They both turned to face the door as it opened.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title taken from the song by Norah Jones. Talk about mood music...


	16. Discoveries

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is pretty Georgiana-Otis focused, but there's some Sidlotte peppered in there. And my Otis isn't quite as endearing as the one on TV, but that's mainly because I'm not a Geotis shipper.

Charlotte fought the urge to hide underneath the coffee table. Maybe behind the curtains would be better? Anything to avoid the confrontation that was about to take place. Hiding Sidney would be much harder, though, and there was no way she could convey and convince him to duck and cover in the ten seconds they had left. What had she been thinking? Waiting in Georgiana’s apartment had seemed like the perfect solution to the problem of locating the girl, but Charlotte hadn’t exactly thought through what would happen once they found her. It only now occurred to her that figuring out their next steps would have been a much more productive use of the awkward downtime, instead of not-kissing in the kitchen. On the plus side, her current state of panic had conveniently driven away every last vestige of hormones that Sidney had stirred up. She glanced up at him, and wished she knew what he was thinking. She wished he had a plan. She wished she had stayed in Sanditon.

Georgiana saw them first, her mouth dropping into an ‘O’ of surprise before she narrowed her eyes at them both. “What the hell are you doing here? How did you get in?”

Charlotte had no clue what to say, and was grateful that Sidney spoke up. He bypassed the second question, and answered only the first. “We were worried about you, and couldn’t reach you. Coming here was the only thing we could think of.” Otis snorted, and crossed his arms over his chest. Sidney ignored him.

“We?” Georgiana repeated, looking from Sidney to Charlotte in surprise. “Well, you found me,” she said, “so everything is fine. Okay?” She looked pointedly at the door. Sidney ignored that, too.

“Why did you run off? You’re jeopardizing your community service hours,” Sidney reminded her. She rolled her eyes at him, and gave a dismissive shrug.

“I’m done picking up trash off the beach,” she declared. “I have a life, you know, and it doesn’t include Sanditon’s garbage.”

“But it does include running off to get married tomorrow?” Sidney asked sarcastically, crossing his arms over his chest. Charlotte wished she could find a way to signal to Sidney to stop playing Bad Cop. Interrogating Georgiana would get them nowhere.

Georgiana started, clearly surprised that Sidney knew that much. She did some fast thinking, and gave Charlotte a death glare. “You told him?! I thought you were _my_ friend, not his. I guess you were just his spy, weren’t you? I can’t believe I trusted you.” Georgiana looked back at Sidney. “And yes, I’m going to marry Otis. And there’s nothing you can do to stop me. Even my dad couldn’t stop me, and _you’re not my dad._ You get no say in my life.”

“You’re right,” Sidney agreed, uncrossing his arms. Maybe it was the look Charlotte had been giving him, or just some instinct that told him to switch strategies, but he softened his tone. “I don’t have a say. You don’t have to listen to me. But since I do handle some of the details of your life, maybe you can tell me what your plans are. Like, will you be moving to Otis’s flat, or will he be moving here?”

“What?” Georgiana was taken aback by the sudden change in Sidney’s demeanor, and looked back at Otis, confused. “Ummm…I don’t know. We haven’t discussed it.”

That told Sidney that she was unaware that Otis no longer had his own place. He probed a little further. “And will he be added to your bank accounts, or will you be keeping your finances separate?”

“Stop trying to confuse her,” Otis spoke up. “We’ll sort all of that out afterwards, and we’ll let you know. You work for _us_ , remember? We don’t answer to you.”

“I don’t work for _you._ ” Sidney was having trouble keeping his voice soft. Otis’s presumption rankled sorely, and he would have made his sentiments very well known, had Charlotte not chimed in for the first time.

“What does your life include?” Charlotte asked softly.

“Huh?” Georgiana asked.

“You have a life. You’re right,” Charlotte tried the tactic of validating Georgiana’s statements, as petulant as they sounded. “And you don’t want to spend more of it in Sanditon, picking up garbage. What do you want for yourself?”

“I want Otis!” Georgiana replied dramatically, shooting Sidney a challenging glare. “And this is the part where you tell me that we can’t be together, right? Maybe threaten him a little? Then you can go back to my father and tell him you were a good little henchman. I know how this plays out, and I’m not going to play along.”

“Your father doesn’t know anything about this,” Sidney started to defend himself, but Charlotte put a hand on his arm, and spoke over him.

“No one is playing at anything,” she said. “Your life, your decisions, right?”

“Yeah, exactly. And I don’t care what anyone else says.”

“Nothing we say will make a difference, right? You love Otis, and that’s the end of it.”

“Uh-huh.” Georgiana’s tone was becoming less defiant. It was hard for her to keep arguing when Charlotte kept agreeing with her. Sidney started to see where she was going with this, and he was reluctantly impressed. Letting her tag along was turning out to have been a very good decision on his part.

“Then we can still share our concerns, can’t we?” Sidney joined in. “Because if it doesn’t matter, you can just hear us out, and then we’ll leave.”

Georgiana looked confused. Otis spoke up again. “Or, since it doesn’t matter what you say, you can save yourself the time and trouble, and just leave now.”

“That’s not fair to Georgiana,” Charlotte replied, her tone thoughtful. “Doesn’t she deserve to make the most informed decisions possible about her own life? Surely you wouldn’t want to rush her into making major decisions unprepared? I’m sure you love her too much for that.”

Otis gave Charlotte a speculative look, but didn’t answer. She had boxed him in pretty neatly, and there was nothing he could say without sounding as though he _didn’t_ want Georgiana to make her own informed choices.

“What do you mean, informed decisions?” Georgiana sounded skeptical, but curious. “Say whatever it is you came to say, and then go.” Sidney handed her the envelope from Beecroft. “What is this?”

“Remember how you told me that you knew your father had hired a private investigator?” Charlotte answered for Sidney, keeping her voice soft. “You deserve to know what he found.”

“Whatever is in there is bullshit,” Otis sneered. “G, you know they faked all of it. Tell him to shove those papers up his ass.”

“Have you looked at it?” Georgiana looked directly at Charlotte, suddenly filled with apprehension.

“No,” Charlotte responded simply. She looked at Otis, and then back at Georgiana. “I don’t know what is or isn’t in there. Maybe there is nothing that matters. Maybe Otis has already told you about whatever it is those papers say. We just think you have the right to know everything before you agree to marry him.”

“I…I don’t know what to do,” Georgiana admitted, looking young and lost. She turned her huge dark eyes to Sidney. “What will I find?”

“You’ll find one version of the truth. There’s probably more than one. You’ll decide which version you want to live with. It’s your life, Georgiana. Your call.”

“Charlotte?” Georgiana implored, “will you look at this with me? I don’t want to do this alone.”

“Of course,” Charlotte said, moving away from Sidney and taking Georgiana’s free hand. She led her into the bedroom, and closed the door behind them. Sidney and Otis sneered at each other for a manly minute, until Otis went over to the kitchen and poured himself a drink. He did not offer one to Sidney. Sidney turned his back to Otis, and stood at the window, looking at nothing. His attention was on the bedroom, ears strained to catch any possible sound. He knew exactly what was in those documents, but he didn’t know if Georgiana would react the way he hoped. Thanks to Charlotte, though, she was open to looking at them and hadn’t flung them back in his face. Yet.

It didn’t take long for her to look at them. In less than fifteen minutes, the bedroom door opened, and a livid Georgiana emerged, with a pale Charlotte behind her. Sidney caught Charlotte’s eyes, and she gave him a slight shake of her head, but he didn’t know what it meant. No, Georgiana didn’t believe what she saw and was furious with him? Or no, Georgiana wasn’t going to marry Otis tomorrow, and was furious with _him_? As Georgiana stalked over to Otis, Sidney began to hope it was the latter.

“Tell me, luv,” she asked Otis, her tone sharp enough to cut glass, “how would you feel about moving into your flat? We can give this one up, right?”

“Do we really need to discuss this tonight, G?” Otis stalled. “We’ll live wherever you’ll be happiest.”

“And am I going to be eligible for your employee benefits? I don’t have dental as a student. I know it’s not so romantic, but there’s so much we haven’t sorted out about our marriage.”

Otis, for the first time this evening, began to look slightly uneasy. “G, what was in those papers? I should have a chance to explain.”

“Sure,” Georgiana agreed, and began laying paper after paper on the kitchen island. “You can absolutely explain how you were fired for some shady judgement calls, stopped paying your rent, borrowed money from loan sharks, and failed to tell the love of your life about any of this. Then you can explain why you bragged to those loan sharks about bagging a rich wife. Then you can explain why you never mentioned that you’re weeks away from being deported. And _then_ you can explain why I shouldn’t kick your sorry ass back to Kenya myself.”

“I can find another job, or another flat,” Otis replied. “But I can’t live without you. I love you, G, you know that.”

“Why?”

“Why?” Otis repeated. Charlotte inched closer to Sidney, feeling horribly awkward witnessing this conversation. From the brief look he gave her, he was feeling the same way.

“Yeah, why would you love a woman so stupid that she didn’t know her boyfriend was keeping so many secrets? A woman so blind not to realize that she was being conned. What would you have done, Otis, if I hadn’t agreed to go to Gibraltar tomorrow? Dump me, and go find yourself another gullible idiot to dupe into marriage?” _‘Holy shit,_ ’ Sidney thought. _‘She was right about Gibraltar.’_ He bit his lip to hide an untimely smile. Knowing Charlotte, she would find a way to rub that in eventually, and he’d have to let her. That was damn impressive sleuthing on her part.

“Of course not!” Otis protested. “I wouldn’t dump you for another woman. There’s no one for me but you.”

“But I thought you ‘couldn’t keep living like this’. So let’s play this out,” Georgiana was picking up steam, getting angrier and angrier as the magnitude of his duplicity became more and more obvious to her. “I won’t marry you tomorrow. I won’t marry you until next summer. I want a fancy wedding, and I want my father to pay for it. What do you say?”

“I’ll be sent back to Kenya. You know that.”

“I do now,” she retorted. “So what? We date long distance.”

Otis was visibly struggling to decide what to say. After a tense moment, he gave up the struggle. “I’m not going to play this game. They’ve poisoned you against me, and you’ve made up your mind. Yes, I lost my job. Yes, I’ll be deported. Yes, I have gambled and borrowed money. But whatever those papers say, I never cared about your money. I fell in love with your soul. I love who you are, not what you have.”

“Funny thing about that,” Georgiana replied, sounding suddenly weary. “I’m still figuring out who I am. And if I don’t know, you can’t possibly. So I’m not so sure you can actually love me as much as you claim.” A tear dripped from her eyelashes, and slid down one cheek. “I think you should go, Otis.”

“Don’t do this, Georgiana,” Otis pleaded. “I’ll call you tomorrow. Forget Gibraltar. We’ll talk it all out. I’ll answer any questions you have, total honesty.”

“What difference does that make now?” she asked, before turning and heading back into her bedroom, shutting the door behind her. Charlotte wasn’t sure whether to try to follow her, or stay in the living room in case things escalated between the guys.

Otis turned to leave, but Sidney stopped him. To Charlotte’s utter shock, Sidney handed Otis a large fold of bills and a business card. “If this isn’t enough to cover the debts, call my office. Wherever you end up, you don’t want guys like that hunting you down.”

“If you’re trying to make it hard for me to hate you, it’s not working,” Otis replied, putting the cash in his pocket. “But thanks, I guess.” He glanced over at Charlotte, but said nothing. She wanted to ask him where he would go and what he would do now, but it really was none of her business. She watched him leave, feeling far sadder than she anticipated. He was wrong for Georgiana, she was still confident of that, but he did seem to care about her more than a little. If she’d just been a mark, he’d gotten tangled up in his own con.

The soft snick of the front door closed behind Otis. “Thank you,” Sidney said softly, drawing her attention back to him. He was watching her from across the room, though she hadn’t heard him walk over there. He looked at her steadily, hands in his pockets, and she thought that she detected approval in his gaze. She couldn’t be sure, though. It wasn’t anything she’d ever seen in Sidney’s eyes when he looked at her before. But he seemed…proud, of her.

“I didn’t do anything,” she deflected. The way he was looking at her was making her feel oddly shy, and almost vulnerable. She was reminded of that evening he’d walked her back to her flat, or their conversation after the cricket. He had a way of slipping past her defenses, and it was beginning to alarm her a little. She had no anger to cling to anymore, nothing to keep her walls up, and less and less conviction that she wanted them up.

“You did everything,” he refuted, his tone as warm as the look in his eyes. “What do we do now?”

 _We_.

The word hung there in the air. It wrapped around her, like the warm embrace he had never once given her. _We_. Such a small word, but to Charlotte it seemed to stretch across the entire living room, forging a connection between them. The recent memory of her body pressed against his, his lips only inches away from hers, flashed through her mind. There was no fooling herself anymore, no pretending that she didn’t want him, and now she knew he wanted her just as much. _We._ She told herself that she was being fanciful, that the dramatic events of the day and lack of supper were getting to her. They weren’t a _we_. He couldn’t have meant it the way she increasingly wanted to understand it. As her eyes searched his, her cheeks pink from the memory of his heat, she realized that he was waiting for an answer to his fairly simple question. She needed some space from him, to sort out the confusion in her mind and figure out what it was she actually felt for him.

“I think I should stay here,” she replied. “Georgiana shouldn’t be alone. Maybe you should go to your flat, and come back in the morning to take us back to Sanditon?”

Sidney struggled to make sense of a stab of disappointment. Charlotte’s suggestion was very sensible, and really the only logical plan. They couldn’t exactly bundle Georgiana off to Sanditon tonight, and he felt too drained for another two hour drive. He suddenly realized that he was hungry, and felt guilty for not having thought to feed Charlotte. Maybe all that time in Regency costume was affecting his thinking, but he couldn’t help feeling that she was somehow his to take care of. She may have insisted on coming with him, but she was his responsibility once she got into his car. She’d be fine with Georgiana, he knew that, but he didn’t want to leave her. It was a fanciful, superstitious thought, but he couldn’t help thinking that whatever connection he was feeling to her would shatter as soon as he left.

Maybe it wasn’t so ridiculous, though. Every time he had felt that there was something between them, the next encounter had brought them right back to verbal warfare. He didn’t want to come back tomorrow morning and revert to arguing with her. It was more than knowing how perfectly she fit in his arms. The past few hours had revealed a different Charlotte Heywood, perhaps even the real Charlotte Heywood, and she was extraordinary. He didn’t want to lose this Charlotte by leaving.

Sidney suddenly realized how sentimental his thoughts had become, and it alarmed him. He told himself sternly that it was 2019, that she wasn’t _his_ , nor his responsibility. He wasn’t looking for a deep, soulful connection with anyone, not even if she did have bottomless dark eyes that he could drown in. Going back to his flat was a brilliant suggestion. He needed space, away from Charlotte, to get his head straightened out. He nodded, his eyes not leaving hers. “That works,” he agreed. “I’ll come back around 10. Unless you want to head back sooner?”

“I have no idea,” Charlotte replied. “I’m an early riser, but I have a feeling Georgiana isn’t.”

“Well, call me or something if she’s up earlier and wants to leave. Otherwise, I’ll just show up at 10.” He looked around for something to write on, but couldn’t find anything. “What’s your number? I’ll text you, and then you’ll have mine, too.” Charlotte gave him her number, and felt her phone buzz a few seconds later. They stood looking at each other for a moment, neither ready to say goodbye but unable to think of a reason not to. Sidney finally went to the door, opened it, and turned to give Charlotte one last, searching look.

“Goodnight, Charlotte. See you tomorrow.”

“Goodnight, Sidney.”

He closed the door behind him, and was halfway down the stairs when it clicked that she had actually called him by his name. The wide, satisfied smile stayed on his face for the entire drive back to his flat.


	17. Sounds of Silence

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so, so sorry that it has taken me so long to write the next chapter!! My job got insanely busy, and then my family had to isolate for 14 days after exposure to someone positive for COVID. (We're all healthy and have tested negative. Don't worry!). I am really hoping to be able to write at least another chapter or two this week. 
> 
> For those who wanted a dance in London, I am taking liberties and bringing them back to Sanditon. The "Midsummer Ball" that is about to take place tomorrow is actually the same dance as Mrs. Maudsley's masquerade. I couldn't think of a plausible way to have Sidney and Charlotte go out clubbing after the last chapter's events.

The car ride was unnaturally quiet. Georgiana, sitting in the passenger seat, had been staring morosely out the window at the rain for almost an hour, and it seemed wrong somehow to try to carry on a normal conversation around her. Even some music would have helped, but it felt insensitive to Georgiana’s heartbreak to ask for Sidney to put on the radio. Charlotte sat in the back seat, behind the driver, and alternated between fiddling with her phone and glancing out the window. Every so often, her eyes would stray to the rearview mirror, and she had met Sidney’s gaze there more than once. Every time, she gave him a rueful little smile, and looked out the window again.

There was so much that she wanted to ask him, but she just couldn’t in front of Georgiana. Charlotte had gone to sleep the previous night with her mind whirling with questions- some about Otis, several about Sidney, and some for herself. The two that she kept coming back to were what did Sidney really think of her? And what did she really think of him?

He was such a confusing man, quite possibly the most confusing she had ever met. Every time she thought she understood him and where they stood, the ground shifted and she found herself in unfamiliar territory again. In the past 24 hours, they had shifted and shifted and shifted again so many times that Charlotte had felt almost dizzy and no longer knew what direction they were going in. She had lain awake on Georgiana’s sofa, replaying the day’s events in her head to try to gain some sort of clarity. By the time she had finally fallen asleep, she was certain of only one thing- Sidney Parker made her feel too much. And until she was able to figure out why, he would continue to confound her and throw her off balance.

Her eyes met his in the rearview mirror again. She wondered what he was thinking, and whether he felt the same confusion that she did. Probably not. Sidney Parker was no novice when it came to women, and he probably never lost a moment’s sleep trying to figure out where he stood with one. He was too gorgeous to lack confidence. And yet…the guy who had shown up at Georgiana’s apartment this morning with coffee and muffins had seemed uncertain and almost hesitant around her. As though he’d been unsure of how she would respond to him and was a little afraid to find out. But that was a ridiculous thought. Men were never afraid of Charlotte Heywood. Bored, maybe. Turned off by her quirks, for sure. Unable to look high enough to see that she had a brain, undoubtedly. But hesitant? Not since Oliver Mulligan in Grade 7.

It had been rather sweet, and surprisingly thoughtful, for Sidney to bring coffee and muffins when he came to pick them up. Obviously, Georgiana’s flat didn’t have any fresh food, since she’d been in Sanditon for several weeks. Charlotte had managed to scrounge up some pasta and tinned tuna the night before- and was admittedly surprised to find that Georgiana Lambe had tinned tuna- but she hadn’t given a thought to breakfast. Nor was she going to ask Georgiana when she’d finally emerged from her bedroom. One look at Georgiana’s set jaw and sad eyes was enough to tell Charlotte that she couldn’t be bothered with such trivial things as basic sustenance.

Charlotte had already been awake for a solid hour before she’d heard Georgiana stirring, and had tried to think of the least offensive way to explain why she’d crashed on the sofa uninvited. ‘We were worried about you’ smacked of pity, which Charlotte knew would be rejected. ‘We didn’t trust you not to run off’ was hardly confidence-inspiring. ‘I had nowhere else to go’ was a bit pathetic, and not exactly accurate. ‘Your sofa is a great anaphrodisiac’ was hardly appropriate. Charlotte had finally decided what to say, but it turned out to be unnecessary. Georgiana hadn’t questioned her presence in the flat, or said much of anything, other than to ask, “I suppose you’re taking me back to Sanditon?”. When Charlotte confirmed that this was, in fact, the plan, Georgiana had just shrugged, and gone back into her bedroom. Charlotte texted Sidney to let him know they were both awake, and he’d shown up 20 minutes later with breakfast.

She could feel his eyes on her in the mirror, but resisted the urge to look. She had the same shy feeling around him that she’d had at Tom and Mary’s, after the bike accident. She remembered thinking once that if Sidney Parker turned out to have a secret soft side, he’d be pretty close to perfect. A real-life Mr. Darcy. Now she was seeing evidence of that soft side, and realizing that he wasn’t perfect and that those imperfections were what made him so compelling. She felt driven to figure him out, and a sense of urgency to do so before her time in Sanditon ran out.

“What will happen to Otis now?”

Georgiana’s soft question boomed through the car, startling both Charlotte and Sidney. She’d barely said a word the entire ride, and they were only about 25 minutes away from Mrs. Griffith’s lodgings. Charlotte’s eyes immediately went to the rearview mirror, and met Sidney’s. He looked equally apprehensive of answering the question, but Georgiana clearly needed an answer.

“What will happen, Sidney? Will he be deported? Worse?”

“You don’t need to worry about him, Georgiana,” Sidney replied, trying to dodge the question as gently as he could. “I’m sure he’ll land on his feet.”

“Whatever he’s done, I can’t just _cauterize_ my heart, you know. I’m not you.” Her tone was as biting as her words. Charlotte felt horribly uncomfortable watching the exchange, trapped in the backseat with no way to give them any semblance of privacy.

Sidney sighed. “Georgiana…” he began, his tone softer than Charlotte had ever heard before. “Right now, your whole world feels destroyed. I know that feeling. But please try not to worry about him or think about him so much. It’ll drive you crazy.” He stopped talking, clearly lost in memories, and Georgiana looked out the window for the rest of the drive into Sanditon. Charlotte now had even more puzzle pieces to try to fit together in her efforts to understand Sidney Parker. They were each of them too occupied by their own thoughts to be bothered by the silence.

* * *

“Good heavens, Sidney!” Mary exclaimed. “What a drama! Mr. Lambe is very lucky to have you looking out so closely for Georgiana!” Tom nodded his agreement, adding in with his typical sagacity, “At least everything’s turned out fine in the end.”

“Has it?” Sidney questioned, taking a sip of the coffee Mary had poured him. He’d gone straight to his brother’s house after dropping Charlotte and Georgiana off together at Mrs. Griffith’s. It had been Charlotte’s idea to hang out with her for a bit, so that she wouldn’t feel so alone. He knew it was the right thing to do, and that she was the right person, but he’d been more than a little disappointed not to have the chance to drive her home. They hadn’t had a single minute alone today to talk, and he needed to talk with her. Sidney had no clue what he wanted to say, but he felt a deep need to just have a few minutes with no interruptions to make sure that she was still the Charlotte of last night. She seemed almost shy this morning, though he never would have described Charlotte Heywood as shy before. Maybe she was just feeling awkward and didn’t know what to say with Georgiana so obviously miserable. It probably had nothing to do with him. Just because he’d lain awake for what seemed like forever, trying to wrap his brain around all the new knowledge he’d gained of her in the last 24 hours, didn’t mean she’d done the same. Although it would have been nice to know if her dreams had also taken place in a kitchen.

“Has it what?” Tom asked, confused. Sidney brought himself back into the moment. He’d actually been hoping that Tom would be at the office so that he could have unburdened himself to Mary alone. She was so much better at listening and understanding people than his brother was. But Tom had been unexpectedly home for lunch, and Sidney found himself relating to both of them everything that had happened in the last day. Minus the kitchen part. Not even Babbers and Crowe would hear that part.

“Has it turned out well?” Sidney clarified. “Georgiana is like a zombie. She’s barely said a word, and I don’t really trust Otis to stay gone.” He wanted to add that he was also more than a little concerned about Charlotte, but didn’t trust himself to be able to mention her name without revealing to much to his perceptive sister-in-law. Charlotte had seemed so quiet and confused when he’d driven away, so unlike the opinionated, confident woman he’d butted heads with so many times. He didn’t like the change, and worried that he was somehow responsible for it.

“Well, that’s hardly your fault!” Tom exclaimed. Sidney shook his head in self-doubt.

“Her father trusts me with more than her money. He practically saved my life, as much as my career, and in return I almost failed to protect the one thing that really matters to him.”

“There’s no use dwelling on it,” Tom advised. “What’s done is done.” Mary gave him a look of disbelief, which clearly escaped his notice, and went into the kitchen to make a plate of sandwiches.

“How can a man make things right again,” Sidney asked, “if he can’t admit his own faults? You must know what this feels like.”

“Well, no, not really,” Tom began, but Sidney interrupted him.

“Oh, come on, Tom. I was present at the cricket. Be honest with me. Be honest with yourself.”

Tom looked guiltily towards the kitchen, where he could hear Mary busily making those sandwiches. He scooted closer to Sidney and lowered his voice. “The truth is, Sidney, that I’m in a pretty bad place. I’ve done everything I can think of to promote this Regency Fair, but the attendance wasn’t even half of what I needed it to be. We still have the annual Sanditon Regatta next week, but I don’t think anyone gives a damn about Sanditon or the regatta. I’m in debt to Mrs. Denham, I’m an inch away from losing the resort and I’m terrified that if Mary realizes just how badly I’ve bungled our finances that I will lose her and the kids, too. I’ve already lost her trust, perhaps forever. I’m drowning, Sidney, and I don’t know how to save myself.”

Sidney took a minute to process everything his brother had confided. He’d figured out for himself that Tom had dug himself into a financial hole with his Sanditon dreams and schemes, but hadn’t realized that he was so close to losing the resort. It was a major part of the Parker family holdings. He took a breath, and let it out slowly. Financial problems he could handle. Money made sense in ways people rarely did. “Don’t worry about the regatta. It always goes well, and I’ll see what Babington can do towards last-minute promotions. As for the resort, you and I will go over the books together and figure out how to get things afloat again. I’ll take a few extra days off, and work with you at your office. Just be honest with me about the figures, and I’ll see how we can make this right again.”

“Sidney, I can’t ask you to do that,” Tom protested weakly.

“You didn’t. I offered. Your honesty is my fee,” Sidney brushed aside his brother’s half-hearted attempts to turn down his offer. Sometimes he felt as though he were the elder sibling. “But when it comes to Mary, you’re on your own. I have no clue how to make a marriage work, but I can tell you that I would give just about anything to find a woman like her. So do whatever it takes to keep her.”

Mary walked in two moments later, with the platter of sandwiches, and both men changed the subject. Sidney decided that perhaps it was best not to confide in Mary right now, with Tom around. He would have to untangle his thoughts about Charlotte on his own.

* * *

Charlotte let herself into her flat, and leaned against the door with a huge sigh of relief. Silence, blessed, peaceful, uncomplicated, drama-free silence. She had never before thought much about how many different types of silence there could be, but the calm quiet of her flat right now was completely different from the tense ‘no one dares speak’ silence of the car ride or the past two hours of totally draining ‘life sucks and will never be okay again’ silence in Georgiana’s room. And it was different yet again from the one or two heartbeats of ‘there is so much to say but no words’ silence as she and Sidney had looked at each other before he drove away.

Alone with her thoughts for the first time in over 24 hours, Charlotte could no longer deny to herself that she was more than a little fascinated by Sidney. He was not at all the posh poster-boy that she had told herself he was. It would have been far easier if she could write him off that way, but he was clearly so much more than that. She would hardly have thought so a week ago, but he had a surprising number of redeeming, if not downright admirable, qualities. Charlotte was beginning to really regret the way she had snipped and snarked at him so often, because she was beginning to fear that they might already have passed the point of starting over. He had seen firsthand how poor her judgement had been about Otis, and how quick she had been to accuse him of being racist. She’d spent the past two weeks giving him far more opportunity to see the worst sides of her, and she didn’t know if it was even possible to reverse that. Why would he even give her a chance? And how could she even convey that she wanted him to? Sidney Parker was way, way out of her league. Maybe if she told herself this enough times, she would be able to convince herself that the thought didn’t make her even the tiniest bit morose.

She decided that the time had come to fill Alison in on her latest adventures. There was no one like a sister for understanding all of your ridiculous quirks and flaws, and loving you anyway. When she couldn’t reach Alison by phone, she decided that email would have to do. Alison never listened to her voicemail anyway.

_Dear Alison,_

_Remember when you said that I would be bored out of my mind after two weeks in Sanditon? I should have made you bet on that. I’d be cashing in right about now. The tale I’m about to tell you is about elopments (not mine!), an heiress from a distant land, and an unexpected trip to London…._

Charlotte had just gotten to the part about pretending to be Georgiana’s vapid maid of honour when her buzzer buzzed. She shut her laptop, and prayed to the Deity of Uninvited Guests that it wasn’t Georgiana. Perhaps it wasn’t the most charitable thought she’d ever had, but she kinda thought she was entitled to a break. To her pleasant surprise, it was Mary.

“I’ve brought you some tea and macarons,” Mary said by way of greeting, as soon as Charlotte opened the door. “Sidney popped by earlier and told us of your London excursion, and I thought that you could probably use a friend and a treat.”

Charlotte felt her eyes tear up. She had thought she had needed quiet and solitude, but Mary was completely right. No wonder she had gone straight to her computer to email Alison. She needed a listening ear, and Mary had just the right kind of sisterly aura. As long as Charlotte didn’t give away too much about her Sidney confusion, Mary was the perfect person to talk to. “Oh, I am so glad you’re here!” Charlotte exclaimed, taking the tea and flopping down on the sofa. “It’s all been so overwhelming. I don’t even know what to think anymore!”

“About what, my dear?” Mary asked, sitting down beside her.

“Anything!” Charlotte replied, finally giving words to the doubts that had been taunting her. “I’ve always been so certain of my judgement. But I feel that since I’ve been here, I’ve been blinded by fantasy and gullibility. I’ve gotten everything so wrong.” Her voice dropped, and she looked down at the to-go cup in her hands. “No wonder your brother-in-law has such a poor opinion of me.”

Mary gave her an assessing look. She found it rather telling that, after everything Charlotte had seen and done in the last day, she was concerned with what Sidney thought of her. “I’m sure that’d not true,” she refuted. “Sidney can be hard to read, that is all. He is a puzzle. A conundrum, if you will.”

“But a conundrum can be solved,” Charlotte replied, her expression skeptical. “He seems so determined to, I don’t know, keep everyone at arm’s length.” ‘ _Unless he’s in the kitchen’_ her mind slyly whispered. She really hoped that her face wasn’t pink.

“He wasn’t always like that. When I first joined the family, he was a very different kind of guy.”

“You said once that he’d had ‘bruising experiences’ in the past?” Charlotte knew she was prying, but she just _needed_ to understand him better. If she could figure out this hold he had on her mind, she knew she could break it.

“Yes. Eliza,” Mary said, unable to hide her grimace. She took a sip of her tea. “We thought they were very much in love, but she tossed him over for a rich older man. He was a mess afterwards. We were so worried about him. He went abroad for a few years to get away from the memory of her, but the Sidney who came back was never quite the same. I don’t think he’s let himself trust any woman not named Parker ever since.”

 _‘He tried to trust me,’_ Charlotte realized. When he had asked her to be a ‘dependable’ friend to Georgiana, he was trusting her with someone and something that mattered to him. No wonder he’d been so angry when he found Otis in Sanditon. She’d taken that trust, stomped on it, and then rubbed salt in the wound by calling him a racist. She was completely ashamed of herself.

Mary watched her young friend, wondering if she had been too indiscreet. Maybe Sidney wouldn’t have wanted Charlotte to know about Eliza. He never liked talking about her or even acknowledging that such a person had ever been part of his life, and would likely be more than a little uncomfortable if he knew that Mary had been discussing him with Charlotte. And yet, her instinct told her that Charlotte should know why Sidney was the way he was. It was probably just wishful thinking on her part, given how short a time they’d known each other, but Mary was becoming more and more certain that there was something brewing between her brother-in-law and her new friend. And maybe, just maybe, she was sitting next to the one person who would finally help Sidney heal.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title is an homage to the beautiful song by Simon and Garfunkel.


	18. Spoken and Unspoken

The serenity of the beach pulled at Charlotte not long after she woke up. Her conversation with Mary the previous afternoon had given her plenty of food for thought- and not all of it easily digested- and she had spent the rest of her day alternating between her uncomfortable self-reflections and her attempts to distract herself from them. She’d ordered in supper, found _Love Actually_ on Netflix, and done her best to turn off her brain for the night. Now, in the soft light of the morning, her brain was back on, and Charlotte decided that continued seclusion was probably a bad idea. A morning walk on the beach, with the sounds and smells of the sea, sounded like a beautiful way to start her day. She tossed on a suitable beach-combing outfit, and made straight for the beach. Her thoughts followed her.

It was a little funny, she reflected, that her London friends- not to mention her sister- had teased her for choosing a quaint seaside resort for her post-graduation “adventure”. So far, this so-called vacation had been anything but boring, and not exactly relaxing. She’d dealt with more drama in the last two weeks than she’d had in the past two years. Charlotte had anticipated four weeks of quiet introspection to help her figure out her next steps in her professional life. She was going to enjoy a few days of Regency make-believe, like she had last year in Bath, and then sort out where Charlotte Heywood wanted to go and what she wanted to do. Instead, she found herself examining aspects of herself that she had never really examined before, and even the Regency make-believe had left her feeling dissatisfied. The whole idea of pretending to be some 19th century heroine and the romantic daydreams of a Mr. Darcy or a Henry Tilney now seemed just a little silly. And she was no closer to figuring out what her next steps should be.

Charlotte picked up a smooth, flat rock, turning it over in her hand and running her thumb back and forth to dislodge any grains of sand. It was a mottled grey, warmed by the morning sun, and there was something comforting about its weight in her hand. She looked out over the water, and flicked her wrist to skip the rock along the surface. It sank immediately with a very disappointing _plop_. ‘ _Yeah, that about sums it up,’_ Charlotte thought dispiritedly. That rock was like too many of her interactions with Sidney since they’d met. No matter what she had intended, her comments and observations had too often landed with a dull, sodden _thud_. The worst part was finding just how very much she cared. At first, it didn’t really matter what Sidney Parker might think of her, because he was just Tom and Mary’s arrogant-as-hell jerkface brother from London. It was easy not to care what some posh prettyboy thought of her.

Except, it never _had_ been easy. It should have been. Logically, she had never had a reason to give a fig for what he thought or felt. Logic didn’t seem to have a place here, though, because in her honest self-reflection, Charlotte had to admit that she had cared from the very beginning. Part of it had been pride- he clearly had disdained her, and she wanted to prove herself. He didn’t have a monopoly on arrogance, after all. Part had been shame- she had been out of line at the Assembly Ball, and she knew it. And then there was the pride again- _she_ wanted _him_ to know that she was a mature enough adult to admit her faults, because he had belittled her.

She wasn’t feeling so blue as to excuse the way he had treated her, at that dance or in their interactions afterwards. He was far from perfect, although Mary’s explanation of his experience with Eliza did explain at least a piece of why he kept people from getting too close. He could be moody, sharp-tongued, and had a devil of a temper. As she began cataloguing Sidney’s faults, Charlotte’s lips tipped up in a little smile. She _liked_ that he was so far from perfect. He had so many layers, and the more she peeled one back, the more fascinated she became by the layer underneath. He was just so…so _real_. And there was the crux of it. The more she learned about him, the more layers she uncovered, the more she saw just how much depth there really was to his character, and the more ashamed she became of how unfairly she had judged him. It was just a bit too _Pride and Prejudice_ for her comfort, and it reminded her of his parting taunt at the Assembly ball: that he _“shouldn’t have expected so much from a girl who can’t distinguish between Jane Austen and the real world”._ She had wanted to prove to him that she wasn’t some silly fluff-brain, but how could he think otherwise? She had jumped to such awful conclusions about him, based on nothing. There was nothing else to be done. She would have to apologize, and own up to it. She wouldn’t be able to forgive herself otherwise.

Charlotte bent down to pick up another flat-ish rock. As she straightened, brushing the sand off the rock and examining it for its skipping potential, she saw three men walking towards her, and instantly recognized Sidney as the one in the middle. It took another moment for her to realize that the other two were Tom and Babington. She returned Tom’s wave, and remained where she was, her heart beginning to beat a little more quickly.

“Charlotte! Having a morning walk, I see?” Tom exclaimed, and then continued on without pausing for her reply. “Guess what Babington here has just told me? He has arranged for a feature article on our Regency festival in Travel + Leisure magazine! Can you believe it? They’ve sent one of their travel writers, a Mrs. Maudsley, to Sanditon and I’ve just helped her settle in at the resort. She has out best room, of course. With her article, I am sure that we will be overrun with visitors!”

“She will be coming to the Midsummer Ball this evening,” Babington added, “as the final event of the festival. I think she has a photographer coming as well. Perhaps you’ll end up with your picture or a quote in the article, Charlotte!”

“Oh, I don’t think so,” Charlotte stammered. She was very aware that Sidney was standing a few feet away, and that he was barely looking at her. She had thought, had hoped, that they had turned some sort of corner in London, but it was clearly her imagination. She gave a unintentionally sad little smile, as she explained that she wasn’t sure she was going to the ball after all. “I…well, it’s just that…I’m not really in a social mood,” she ended, knowing exactly how lame she sounded. Sidney looked at her sharply, but looked back at the ocean just as quickly. Charlotte decided to cut her losses, said her goodbyes, and continued down the beach.

* * *

Sidney watched her walk away, a slight frown on his face as he tried to understand why Charlotte wouldn’t want to go the last Regency event of the festival. Isn’t that what she came to Sanditon for? To enjoy the make-believe of Regency life? It worried him that she didn’t want to go, and he couldn’t ignore the suspicion that something about their London excursion was responsible for the change. Was it something he’d said? He’d been such a jerk to her so many times already that he had to consider that perhaps he was the reason for her subdued mood.

He would have eaten pickled camel feet before admitting it to Crowe or Babington, but he just couldn’t stop thinking about her. Since leaving Mary and Tom’s the day before, he had forced himself to look inward- which was always a dangerous endeavor, and therefore one to be avoided- and try to look at their interactions through her eyes. He had been so convinced from the very beginning that she was just another shallow flirt, someone that he could frighten off with a few harsh words. Even as he acknowledged it to himself, he recognized the contradiction. He’d _known_ , right from the start, that she wasn’t shallow. Since Eliza, Sidney had honed his radar to quickly pick up on Women Who Might Possibly Maybe Matter Even A Little, so that he could avoid them or drive them off. If she had been as daft as he’d tried to convince himself, he wouldn’t have felt the need to scare her off at all. And if he hadn’t known it at the Assembly Ball, he would have figured it out when she’d tried to apologize to him. He’d really been a first-class wanker that time.

He was ashamed of himself. He had put her down, again and again, and been perhaps the worst version of himself. He had _yelled_ at her, for crissakes. Actually yelled at her, a woman he had known for all of two weeks, in public. And the only real reason- which he would never speak out loud- was because she terrified him. Charlotte Heywood, who was five years and a whole lifetime of jaded experiences younger than he was, absolutely petrified him. She made him _feel_. Made him look inward and question his actions and beliefs. She wasn’t supposed to matter, but somehow she had slipped past his defenses and now she did. Sidney wondered if it was too late for them to start over. He’d treated her pretty badly, and he blame her if she wanted nothing to do with him. Okay, he would blame her, but he’d still understand. Eventually.

And yet, he couldn’t erase the hope that there was some sort of connection- geez, when did he get so sappy- that had grown between them in London. He didn’t want to let that go, not just yet. There was only one thing he could do, and he knew that he couldn’t miss this chance. Excusing himself to his brother and Babbers with the transparent pretext that he’d left something back at the resort, he hurried after Charlotte.

He caught up with her a ways down the beach, and tamped down his sense of relief that she hadn’t gone back to her flat yet. It would have been so much more awkward to seek her out there. He already felt just a tiny bit stalker-ish, chasing her down the beach like this. He supposed he could have just called her or texted, but that seemed cowardly and almost more awkward. What would he have texted? _Hey, it’s Sidney. Sorry for being a total asshole. Want to grab a cup of coffee?_ Okay, not the worst option. He decided to hold on to that one, in case he got desperate.

Charlotte was sitting on a large rock, arms curled around her knees as she stared out at the water. She heard the crunch of footsteps, and looked left to see who was approaching. She didn’t know what to think or feel about Sidney seeking her out like this- surprise, obviously. A touch hopeful, a smidge apprehensive. Her last apology hadn’t exactly gone well. She decided to wait and see which version of him was standing there, and then she’d figure out whether to risk an apology or not.

Sidney cleared his throat. She looked so vulnerable, sitting there watching the waves. He wondered what she was thinking. He wondered whether she would ever feel comfortable sharing her thoughts with him again. “I…Tom…that is, we were hoping you would reconsider coming to the ball tonight,” he began. “You’ve given so much of your time to Tom and the festival, and it just doesn’t seem right for you not to be there.”

Charlotte looked at him, hardly even hearing what he said. “Why did you pay off Otis’s debts?” she blurted out, finally asking one of the questions that had been nagging at her since London.

Sidney was surprised at the question, but was grateful for the opening she’d handed him. “I came to the conclusion that a good man shouldn’t spend the rest of his life paying for one terrible mistake.” He kept his gaze on hers, hoping that she would hear herself in his words and understand how much he valued her opinion.

Charlotte searched his eyes, a little frightened by how much his answer mattered to her. It almost sounded as if he were saying that _she_ was the reason he’d given Otis that money. It must be her imagination. Sidney Parker kept her at more than arm’s length, so it was inconceivable that she could have that kind of influence on a man like him. She dropped her eyes, and screwed up her courage. If she was ever going to get out her apology, it would have to be now. He was the gentle, earnest version of Sidney, the one that always made her feel as though she was one of the few people on Earth privileged to see this side of him. She knew it was an illusion, but this Sidney she could apologize to without fear of his response. She hopped down off the rock, feeling the need to stand while she got the words out.

“Look, Sidney…I owe you an apology,” she said in a breathless rush. “I accused you of the worst kind of prejudice and I…”

“I don’t accept your apology,” Sidney cut her off, walking a few steps closer as he spoke. Charlotte looked up at him warily, wondering if she had misread him and was about to get blasted between the eyes again.

“Why not?” she hesitantly asked, steeling herself for his answer.

“Because I’m the one who should apologize,” he said, his dark eyes full of contrition. Charlotte’s shoulder dropped ever so slightly, but Sidney noticed. “I’ve wronged you terribly, Charlotte. I’ve…I’ve underestimated you.” Charlotte’s mouth fell open, before she caught herself. There was so much more that Sidney wanted to add, but couldn’t. _’I think you’re remarkable.’_ ‘ _I can’t seem to stay away from you.’ ‘You scare the crap out of me.’_ He wanted to reach for her hand, not to draw her closer but just to touch her and reassure himself that the connection was real. He put his hand in his pocket instead. It was too much, too soon, and he couldn’t make himself quite that vulnerable yet. The apology would have to be the first step.

“My carriage will pick you up at 7:00,” he said, taking a step back from the intensity of the moment. “A lady shouldn’t have to arrive at a ball unescorted.” He gave her a little bow, and walked away. Charlotte watched his retreating figure until she couldn’t see him any longer. Her mind whirling, trying to understand what had just transpired, she bent and picked up another stone and gave it a flick. _One…two…three…four._ She gave a satisfied little smile. It was the first stone that hadn’t sunk all morning.

A much lighter Charlotte left the beach in search of coffee and breakfast, mentally rearranging her day. It seemed that she might be in the mood to go to the Midsummer Ball, after all. 


	19. The Midsummer Ball

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't let the title confuse you...Tom may call this the Midsummer Ball, but we all know it as Mrs. Maudsley's masked rout. 
> 
> Thank you all so very much for the lovely encouraging words, warm welcome back, and wishes for my family's health. We're all just fine. Our quarantine ended today, so we're back to work and school tomorrow! I'm still hoping to write in the evenings. My partner is a prince of a man, and is totally fine with my ignoring him so that I can write for all of you. ❤️❤️

Charlotte looked at herself in the mirror, and reached up to adjust a tendril of hair. She and Alison had disagreed about whether or not to choose this fabric for her Midsummer Ball dress. Charlotte had wanted to just wear the white gown again, but perhaps with different accessories. Alison had overruled her, claiming that the seamstress got the final vote. It had been Alison who had insisted on the dull gold fabric with thin vertical gold stripes, claiming it deepened the brown of Charlotte’s eyes and brought out the dusky hue of her skin, and had added the wide swath of shinier gold just above the hem and across the bust. It had been Alison who decided to cut the bodice just a bit lower than Charlotte had wanted. It was Alison, she had to admit, who had been correct. Charlotte managed to take a decent mirror selfie of herself, and sent it to Alison with the words “ _You may have been a little bit right.’_ By the time Charlotte had pulled on her elbow length gloves, her phone beeped with Alison’s reply.

‘ _Gorgeous! But I want a pic of you with this Sidney guy.’_

_‘It’s not a date, ninny.’_

_‘It’s Regency prom night. 1 pic.’_ Charlotte couldn’t help but chuckle at that. Alison wasn’t wrong.

_‘No promises’_

Regardless of what she told her sister, Charlotte did feel the same sort of anticipation as if this really _were_ a date. She was getting dressed up, waiting for an intriguing, attractive man to pick her up and take her dancing. There would be drinks. That’s a lot of elements of a date. The only part missing was the one where the guy had actually asked her out and indicated that he was even remotely interested. She couldn’t weave romantic fantasies around this evening or this man. Life may imitate art, but she had learned first-hand at the Assembly Ball that life did not imitate Jane Austen.

Her doorbell buzzed, and she quickly locked up and went downstairs. She realized that she was rushing, and forced herself to descend the last staircase more slowly. Her stomach started to flutter with nerves and self-doubt. What would he see when he looked at her? Would he still see a silly girl who was playing make-believe in search of her own Mr. Darcy? She couldn’t read his expression. It certainly wasn’t the jaw-drop she’d hoped for, nor even a warm smile of greeting. He stood there, unbearably handsome in a dark suit jacket with a light tawny vest and cravat. Dimly, she registered how well their outfits complimented each other. His eyes didn’t leave hers, but he still said nothing. She had to break the silence.

“My sister made it,” she blurted out. “She thought it would suit me. Will…will it do?” She knew she sounded like she was fishing for compliments, but his continued silence was really unnerving. If she needed any proof that this _wasn’t_ a date, he was giving her plenty.

Finally, he smiled, that little dimple showing. He looked down, and then back at her. “It will do very well,” he said, his emphasis leaving her in no further doubt of Alison’s judgement. He held out his arm, and she took it and allowed him to walk her over to his car.

Sidney was still reeling from the sight of her. He’d always thought of tonight as being like an old-fashioned masquerade or weird Halloween costume ball, with all of these seemingly rational 21st century people dressing up in clothing from 200 years earlier. He certainly felt more than a little ridiculous in the short-cut jacket, cravat and tight pants. Charlotte didn’t look ridiculous, though, nor did she look like she was wearing a costume. Maybe it was the colour of her dress, or the way the setting sun gilded her, but she seemed to glow with a warmth that drew him in even more. He’d offered to drive her to the ball as a way to make sure she went, but now he was beginning to feel as if this evening was going to be something more for them. He was so confused by his thoughts that the sound of Charlotte’s laugh took him completely by surprise. “What is it?” he asked, genuinely perplexed.

“I’m sorry,” Charlotte chuckled. “It’s just…doesn’t it feel a little silly getting into a car wearing these clothes? Somehow it never occurred to me that we’d be driving!” He smiled, and agreed that they did look a little incongruous. They mutually agreed not to turn on the radio as they drove the short distance to the Assembly Rooms.

“Can I ask a silly favour?” Charlotte asked, after he helped her out of the car. Regency dresses were absolutely not designed to accommodate getting in and out of an automobile.

“Sure,” Sidney replied easily, not letting go of her hand as quickly as he might have. Charlotte was too caught up in thinking how to phrase her request to notice.

“My sister Alison made a joke about this being like Regency Prom night, and wants a picture. Would you mind if I sent her a selfie of the two of us?” Charlotte bit her lip, hoping she didn’t sound as if she’d been talking about him to her sister. Which she had been, of course. But she didn’t want _him_ to know that.

“Does that make me your prom date?” Sidney asked, trying to keep a straight face. “I didn’t bring you a corsage.”

Charlotte flushed beet red. “No!” she insisted, a little too quickly. “That is, I know we’re not here tonight _together_ or anything. I just…I thought Alison would get a kick out of seeing a picture. Never mind. I told you it was silly.” She started to turn away to walk into the Assembly Rooms, but Sidney grabbed her hand again and spun her back around. He pulled her against his side, slung an arm lightly across her shoulders, and hailed a person walking near them.

“Excuse me, would you mind taking our picture?” He handed the person his phone, and told Charlotte to smile. Then he stepped back and gave an exaggerated courtly bow. Charlotte took hold of her skirt and did her best curtsey. She was laughing when she straightened up. Sidney thanked the guy who took the pictures, and then showed Charlotte the pictures. “I’ve texted them to you, so you can pass them along to Alison,” he told her. He offered his arm again. “Ready to go in?” Charlotte agreed, and they walked inside together.

The Assembly Rooms looked completely different. Charlotte didn’t know how Tom had pulled it off, but he had transformed the space so that it looked nothing like it had 10 days ago. The dance space was the same, but the perimeter of the large main room was dotted with flowering white trees and twinkling lights. It was like a fairy land, and all the people swirling around were magical creatures that could only be seen for this one night.

“Not bad, eh?” Tom asked, materializing beside Sidney. “And we have a much better crowd tonight than we did at the Assembly Ball. Now if I only I could persuade some of them to stay around long enough for the annual regatta…Sidney, you and Charlotte must talk up the regatta to everyone tonight.” Sidney opened his mouth, but had no chance to reply. They had been joined by Crowe and Babington, and Tom immediately tried to enlist them in his endeavors. Crowe ignored him, looking instead at Charlotte, as though trying to figure why she looked familiar.

“Parker, why haven’t you introduced me to this ravishing creature? I should have guessed that you’d turn up with a girl on your arm.” Crowe took a sip of his drink as he looked Charlotte over from head to toe.

“It’s Charlotte, you fool,” Babington rolled his eyes as he elbowed Crowe in the side. “Charlotte Heywood.”

“Oh….Charlotte.” Crowe floundered, trying to think faster than his drunken brain could accommodate. “I didn’t recognize you in that colour. It’s….um…a nice change.”

“Thank you?” Charlotte replied, not fully certain whether that had been a compliment. Tom, impatient with a conversation that did not revolve around Sanditon, interjected to remind them all of the vital importance of talking up next week’s regatta.

“This sounds like work,” Crowe complained. “I didn’t come here to work. I came here to imbibe, carouse, and generally make an ass out of myself.”

“I think you’re succeeding,” Charlotte murmurmed, but too softly for anyone but Sidney to hear. He coughed to cover up his chuckle, and Crowe narrowed his eyes at Charlotte, trying to figure out what she said. Finally, Crowe shrugged and wandered off, with Babington close behind him. Tom left them to maneuver his way into a different knot of people, and Charlotte found herself standing beside Sidney with no clue what to say. Was she supposed to walk away too? Or stay with him? What were the rules tonight, if there even were any?

“Well, Charlotte, aren’t you glad you decided to come after all?” Sidney asked, striving to keep his voice casual.

“I’m not sure yet,” Charlotte replied with her typical honesty. “It’s beautiful, no question. But part of me feels very silly for playing dress up and coming to a party when Georgiana is home alone, nursing a broken heart. What she is going through is real and, well, none of this is.”

“You’re allowed to enjoy yourself, you know. It doesn’t make you a bad friend, or a bad person, for having a good time tonight.”

“I know that,” she said, her tone and expression thoughtful. He loved watching her face while she thought. “It’s not about feeling guilty for having fun.”

“Then what is it? I thought this ball, this whole festival, is what drew you to Sanditon to begin with.”

“It was. It is. It’s just…I don’t think I actually fit with into the Regency mold after all. When I was in Bath last year, I was able to stay ‘in character’. But this year, here in Sanditon, it just doesn’t fit anymore. Like I don’t really belong here.”

“I’m pretty sure I don’t either,” Sidney pointed out. “I drove you here in a car, remember?”

Charlotte looked at him, taking in the details of his snowy white shirt, perfect cravat, and tailored vest. “You still manage to look the part. Actually, you seem like the kind of person who knows how to fit in everywhere. I envy that.”

“You shouldn’t,” Sidney said softly. “I think the people who seem to fit in everywhere are the ones that don’t actually in in anywhere.” Charlotte met his gaze, trying to understand whatever it was he was trying to tell her. It sounded to her as though Sidney thought of himself as some kind of outlier, which wasn’t how she saw him at all. Reserved and guarded, sure. But not isolated or an outsider. No one who had seen him with his family could ever think that. Charlotte didn’t like the serious direction the conversation had gone, and tried to bring a little more levity.

“Do you think this is at all what a real Midsummer Ball might have been like?” she asked, as they wove their way through the crowd. “Minus the electric Christmas lights in the trees, of course.”

“I don’t think big parties have changed all that much,” Sidney responded after a moment. “Or maybe it’s more that people haven’t changed much. The ones who want to dance will dance. The ones who want to drink and talk will drink and talk. And the ones who want to be seen will show up, make themselves noticeable, and then move on to the next party.”

“I guess people have a way of gravitating towards whatever it is they’re looking for,” Charlotte mused. Sidney looked at her. She had summed up what he was saying so tidily.

“What are you looking for?” he asked, before he could think better of it.

She gave him a sidelong glance, and sipped her wine. “I don’t know,” she admitted. “I think I came to Sanditon hoping it would find me without my having to look.”

“I meant, what are you looking for tonight? From the ball?”

“Oh.” Charlotte flushed. “I’m sorry. I know I’m too literal sometimes. I speak my mind too easily. And I’m too opinionated. And too…”

“No,” Sidney interrupted her, turning her so that she was facing him. “You’re not too anything.” Charlotte’s heart began to pound so loudly that she was surprised he couldn’t hear it over the music. She couldn’t tear her eyes from his. “You have nothing to apologize for,” he went on, trying to convey the depth of his respect for her through his eyes. He hated hearing her apologize for the same qualities that made her so uniquely Charlotte. “Please don’t doubt yourself. You are more than equal to any woman here. Or anywhere.”

“Well, I hate to say it,” Babington said as he joined them, oblivious to the way Sidney and Charlotte had been staring at each other, “but these Regency fans do not seem to be boat people. I’m not sure how much luck I’m having convincing them to extend their stays.” Tom beckoned Sidney at that moment, waving him over urgently, and Sidney had no choice but to excuse himself. He didn’t want to leave Charlotte’s side. He’d been on the cusp of admitting to her that he was starting to fall for her, or thought he was at least, and he wasn’t sure he would find another moment.

Charlotte searched for something to say to Babington. She didn’t really know him, and had only been around him a couple of times. “I…um…I noticed that you were hanging out with Esther Denham at the cricket,” she began, but stopped at the expression on Babington’s face.

“Yeah, no,” he said, looking away. “I’d thought there might have been something there, but I turned out to be wrong.” He took a sip of his drink, and looked at Charlotte, considering whether to ask what had been on his mind for days. He didn’t know much about this woman, other than the fact that Sidney was a little obsessed with her (even if Sidney wouldn’t admit it). Sidney had never been interested in stupid women, though, so he decided that maybe he could risk asking his question. He didn’t have many female friends that he could turn to. “You’re a woman,” he said, hearing how stupidly obvious that sounded and forging ahead anyway. “Tell me this: is it possible for a woman’s feelings towards a guy to completely change overnight?”

The question struck Charlotte like a lightning bolt. It didn’t occur to her that Babington might have been thinking about Esther. Her mind, and her eyes, went instantly to Sidney, and the twists and turns of the brief time they’d known each other. She’d thought she hated him not too many days ago and would have been happy never to see him again. Now she couldn’t imagine having to say goodbye when she left Sanditon. Could feelings change overnight? Yes, and the awareness of just how much her feelings had changed was overwhelming. She had to get out of there. There was too much noise, too many people, too many thoughts and feelings coursing through her at once. “I’m so sorry,” she stammered, remembering that she hadn’t answered his question. “It’s so hot in here, and this dress…I can’t breathe. I need some air.” Charlotte rushed off, leaving a very confused and concerned Babington behind.

Charlotte found a smallish room off to one side of the ballroom, where there was an open terrace door. She stood in the doorway, gulping in the cooler night air. Babington’s question had followed her. How could her feelings towards Sidney changed so dramatically in so short a time? What were those feelings? Attraction, yes, but that’s just chemistry. Pheromones. Lust and attraction were fancy human ways of explaining the biological imperative to propagate the species. Whatever was inside her for Sidney went beyond lust.

“My feelings exactly,” a woman’s voice said behind her. Charlotte spun around, spotting a dark-haired woman sitting quietly in the corner with a book. Or maybe it was a notebook or some kind? Charlotte couldn’t tell.


	20. An Affliction

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for your patience. I never intended for there to be such a long break between updates. I am going to try really, really hard to put up at least one a week.
> 
> I hope this chapter does not disappoint, after such a long hiatus.

“I’m so sorry!” Charlotte apologized. “I didn’t realize anyone was already in here.”

“It’s fine,” the woman replied. She was an attractive woman, no more than 15 years older than Charlotte. “I can’t blame you for needing a breath of air. It’s rather stifling in there, isn’t it? And now you’re going to tell me that you’re the interior designer, and I have just insulted you horribly.”

“No, not at all!” Charlotte assured her. “I had nothing to do with the ball. Other than the Twitter and Instagram posts. And a few on FB. But that’s it, really. I don’t have much to do with the festival. Or Sanditon.”

“If you don’t have much to do with it, what do you have to do with the social media posts?” the stranger asked.

“Oh, I offered to help Tom. He and Mary have been so kind, you see, since I came to Sanditon to figure out my life and didn’t know anyone here at all. It was supposed to be a post-grad vacation, but it hasn’t been very relaxing. My friend Georgiana almost eloped to Gibraltar, but it turned out that her fiancé was going to be deported and just wanted to marry her so that he could stay here. And that doesn’t even include the part about the loan sharks.”

“That sounds dramatic,” her companion commented.

“It was!” Charlotte agreed. “Thank goodness we made it to London in time to show her the private investigator’s file and stop her from flying off. And now Tom wants me to spread word of the Sanditon regatta next week, but you can see that I’m not exactly doing a good job of that.” She paused for breath. “I’m so sorry. I talk too much. What is your name?”

“Susan,” the woman replied, biting back a smile. “And you are?”

“Charlotte. Charlotte Heywood.”

“I hope you don’t mind my saying so, Charlotte, but you seem a little…” Susan paused, searching for just the right word. “…befuddled.”

“Do I?” Susan nodded, her eyes mirroring the smile on her face, and Charlotte grimaced. What an utter farce this evening was turning out to be! All at once, the thoughts that had been whirling through her mind came tumbling out of her mouth, despite – or maybe _because_ of- this woman being a total stranger. “There’s this guy. Sidney Parker, Tom’s brother. He makes me angrier than anyone else I’ve ever met, angrier than I ever thought myself capable of, but then I also care about what he thinks of me. Like, his good opinion matters more to me than anyone else’s. How can that be?” Charlotte turned towards Susan, her dark brown eyes large and confused.

“It sounds to me,” Susan replied gently, “as though you’re in love with him.”

“Whaaaat?!” Charlotte yelped, the immediate surge of emotion sending her to her feet. “No way! Not possible. No. I mean…no. If I were ever to fall in love, it would _not_ be with a guy like that.”

Susan couldn’t help laughing. The sheer number of times that Charlotte said the word ‘no’ was proof enough. “My dear girl,” she responded, her tone full of the affection she was suddenly feeling for this young woman she’d only just met, “you can’t _choose_ who you fall in love with. It’s an affliction, like the measles. Just without a vaccine.”

Charlotte shook her head, about to negate once again the possibility of being in love with Sidney. Love blossomed like a well-tended flower. It didn’t spring into existence overnight, like a weed. She had never felt so confused. And yet…hadn’t she herself had the thought that Sidney made her feel too much? Could the explanation be as simple, and as terrifying, as that feeling being love? She opened her mouth, not knowing what she was about to say, but was interrupted.

“There you are!” Sidney’s deep tones entered the room before Charlotte realized that he was there. She spun around, wondering if he had overheard any of her conversation. “I was beginning to think that you’d snuck out.”

Charlotte still could not find any words. Her brain was spinning, trying to simultaneously sort out whether she could possibly, actually have fallen in love with Sidney and whether he had, in fact, caught the tail end of Susan’s words. _‘Oh, please no,’_ she thought frantically. What if he thought she had been telling Susan that she loved him? How was she supposed to look him in the face now, with this idea planted in her head? What was she supposed to say to him? She didn’t have a chance to say anything, before Susan spoke and made the already-awkward situation a thousand times more mortifying.

“Let me guess. You must be Sidney Parker,” Susan chimed in. “We were just talking about you.”

Charlotte looked from Susan to Sidney, completely aghast. Now he would think that she had been gossiping about him! Sidney was such a private person. He’d be livid. To her relief, he mostly seemed confused. There was no way he could possibly be as confused as she felt, but she’d take a confused Sidney over an angry one right now.

“Ummm…yeah, okay,” Sidney replied, not sure of what to make of this unknown woman’s comment. She had a mischievous sort of twinkle in her eye, and Sidney was really curious about how he could possibly have been part of their conversation. The only part he had heard had been about measles and vaccines. It didn’t surprise him in the slightest that his Charlotte would go to a fancy ball and end up deep in serious conversation off to the side. He, however, had a different agenda, and it most certainly did not include discussions about disease. “I was wondering if Charlotte would like to dance. That is, if I’m not interrupting?”

“Not at all,” Susan spoke up for Charlotte, who seemed incapable of speaking. Sidney held out his arm, using his best faux-Regency mannerisms, and Charlotte placed her hand on his. He excused them, and began to lead Charlotte from the room, towards the sounds of music coming from the main ballroom. Charlotte looked back at Susan one last time, almost in supplication. Susan allowed herself a small smile, and then took out her little notebook and began jotting down some notes.

The current dance was just ending as Sidney and Charlotte entered the ballroom. Charlotte finally found her voice as Sidney guided her down the few stairs and onto the dance floor. “You didn’t have to ask me, you know. Just to be polite.”

“This is what people do at dances, isn’t it? Dance?” Sidney teased, wondering if perhaps he had misread the sense of connection between them. Maybe Charlotte really would prefer talking about measles in some quiet room with some new friends to dancing with him. He offered her the out. “Unless you’d rather not dance?”

“No,” Charlotte instantly refuted. She hadn’t meant to imply that she didn’t _want_ to dance with him. “It’s just that there are so many other women here that you could ask.”

“But I don’t want to dance with them,” Sidney simply replied, his eyes on hers. For the first time since he’d found her, she didn’t look away. Their eyes stayed locked as the strains of the song began, and as he bowed. Charlotte blinked a few times, feeling the pull of his gaze as the music wrapped around them like a cocoon. There was no one else in the ballroom. The twinkling lights, the colorfully-dressed people- they all melted away, leaving only Sidney and his intense, dark eyes looking down into hers. The tumultuous confusion of the last half hour began to settle, as they took a step towards each other, their shoulders barely brushing, and then stepped back again. As they turned around one another, their eyes still locked, Charlotte felt the truth of Susan’s words and finally accepted what she had refused to acknowledge. She had fallen in love with this man.

Their palms touched, and then the opposite hands, the barest brush of skin against glove. As the tempo of the music began to change, Charlotte’s heart began to beat faster. Though neither she nor Sidney said a word, this dance had become a conversation. It was the outpouring of everything that neither one had been brave enough to say out loud. Sidney held out his hand. It was part of the dance, she knew that, but it felt like a symbol of so much more. As though he were giving her an offer, a choice, and this was the moment for her to accept it…and accept him. Slowly, she slid her hand into his. He slide his other arm around her waist and drew her close. Her other arm went to his shoulder, and Charlotte caught her breath. She could feel the heat of him, smell his aftershave. She had been this close to him only once before, in Georgiana’s apartment.

With every turn, Sidney felt more of his cynicism melt away. All of his fears of getting close to someone else, of letting down his guard…they all seemed foolish now. His eyes searched Charlotte’s, wondering if she also felt like this dance was somehow the answer to every question he’d never asked. Or maybe the dance wasn’t the answer. Maybe the answer was Charlotte herself. The dance had them step apart from one another, but Sidney kept Charlotte’s hands near him. He didn’t want to step farther from her than absolutely necessary. He couldn’t look away from her, couldn’t break the spell that enveloped them. With every step closer, Sidney knew that he was stumbling closer to some crucial truth. He couldn’t quite figure it out yet, but he knew that it would be life-changing. He felt himself smile, and saw Charlotte’s answering smile. The rest of the dance was a heady mixture of joy and passion…much like Charlotte herself. Sidney felt intoxicated, almost bewitched, by the music, by the movement, and by the woman.

The end of the dance was almost a shock. They were standing close, her hand clasped in front of his heart, and Sidney had never wanted to kiss a woman more than he wanted to kiss Charlotte in that moment. It was completely unlike the moment of anger and fire in Georgiana’s kitchen. That had been…lust, certainly. Frustration. Confusion. This was none of those things. Kissing Charlotte now would be like taking a deep breath after surfacing from the ocean. Sidney swallowed hard, realizing that there were too many people and too many unsaid confessions for him to act on that kiss. As they broke apart, their eyes both expressed the same sense of wonder. Their moment would come. It just wouldn’t be now. Then Sidney looked out over the crowd that he had all but forgotten, and froze.

It couldn’t be. His imagination must be playing tricks with him, because there was no imaginable reason for _her_ to be _here_. Sidney looked back at Charlotte, hoping to recapture the magic of their dance and convince himself that he hadn’t seen who he knew he just saw. Charlotte’s warm brown eyes steadied him. “Thank you, Miss Heywood,” he said, with a nod of his head

“My pleasure, Mr. Parker,” she replied, with a smile. He needed her to stay focused on him, and considered offering her a walk outside in the moonlight, but Tom approached them and Charlotte politely turned towards him. Sidney snuck a peak toward the doors, cursing himself for doing it but unable to stop himself.

It _was_ her. He couldn’t blame his imagination, when she was so clearly standing right there and looking directly at him. She was several years older, and wearing a wine-red dress and old-fashioned updo that he would never have pictured her in, but it was unmistakably her. Sidney half-heard Tom asking Charlotte to dance, and excused himself from the dance floor, his body mechanically making its way towards the doors.

What would he say to her, after all these years? Part of him wanted to pretend that he hadn’t seen her, and gone on with his evening, but he knew that was childish. She had seen him every bit as much as he had seen her, and he knew that he would not be able to regain his enjoyment of the evening if he ignored her. He would be plagued by too many ‘what ifs’ if he tried to ignore her, and his pride refused to allow her the satisfaction of knowing how deeply shaken he was by her sudden appearance. That same pride put a little swagger in his stride as he climbed the three shallow steps. She was talking to some guy, but he knew she was watching him. She’d always had a talent for making whomever she was talking to feel as though they had her entire focus, all the while scoping the room.

The guy moved on, and she turned to look out at the dancers. Sidney wasn’t fooled. Her back may have been to him, but she was completely aware of him. She wouldn’t show the tiniest bit of surprise at seeing him.

“Mrs. Campion?” He allowed the slightest hint of confusion to shade his voice, as though he weren’t sure it was her. She turned, and smiled into his eyes.

“Sidney,” she replied softly, her voice almost a purr.

Oh, it was her, all right. Blonde, blue-eyed and beautiful, as always. He found that he liked her in Regency costume. It softened her diamond-sharp edges and made her seem more approachable. Or maybe she wasn’t the same barracuda that he’d made her out to be in his memory. Sidney smiled, inexplicably glad to have this opportunity to see her again. It wasn’t how he’d imagined it- and he had imagined it plenty of times since their break-up. He’d pictured her sobbing and begging for him to come back to her. He’d pictured himself disdainfully turning his back on her. He’d pictured her as an old woman, still carrying the regret of giving up their chance at love. Never had he pictured running into her unexpectedly at a costume ball in Sanditon, of all places, but Sidney Parker was not a man to let an opportunity like this slip through his fingers. Here, finally, was his chance to talk to her and walk away whole. He had already felt his cynical demons leaving him during that dance. It seemed that this was his night for redemption.

* * *

Charlotte and Tom smiled at each other, enjoying the lively dance and the company. Say what you will about Tom Parker, he was a nice man and a fun, uncomplicated dance partner.

“I’m happy to see that sparkle in your eyes, Charlotte,” Tom remarked, in his typical blunt way. “You’d seemed so down at the beach earlier.”

“Well, there’s nothing like dancing to cheer someone up!” Charlotte replied with a bright smile.

“Absolutely,” Tom agreed. “It seems equally true for my brother Sidney.”

“Do you think so?” Charlotte asked breathlessly. She hoped Tom wouldn’t notice how eagerly she waited for his answer, or that he would at least attribute her breathlessness to the dance. Was it dancing alone that created such a noticeable change in Sidney? Or could it be- did she dare allow herself to hope- that it was dancing with _her_?

“It’s undeniable,” Tom asserted. “He is positively revivified!”

Charlotte glowed. Perhaps she should allow herself to hope, after all. Surely she couldn’t have felt such an intense connection to someone who was indifferent to her?

“Although,” Tom mused, unaware of where Charlotte’s mind had gone, “perhaps it isn’t so much due to the dancing, as it is to the presence of a certain someone.”

Charlotte fought to control her facial expression. If Tom- clueless, self-absorbed Tom- thought that Sidney’s good mood was attributable to _a certain someone_ , then surely she wasn’t insane to think that he returned her feelings. “Which someone do you have in mind?” she asked, hoping to encourage Tom to keep the topic going.

“He’s talking to her now,” Tom answered, matter-of-factly. “Mrs. Campion. It’s unmistakably her.” Charlotte’s eyes found Sidney immediately, and registered the gorgeous blonde that he was talking to. She oozed sophistication, even in her Regency costume. Charlotte’s heart dropped into her stomach, and she began to feel nauseous as Tom- clueless, self-absorbed Tom- kept talking. “It’s so strange. Mary said that she'd mentioned her to you just yesterday. I’d heard that she was divorced, but had no clue that she was planning on joining our festival here in Sanditon.”

The dance came to a close. Dancers and spectators alike clapped. Charlotte’s hands briefly touched each other, but she was hardly aware of what her body was doing. The sounds of conversation around her were like wasps buzzing in her ears. She saw Sidney glance over at the dance floor, but he dropped his head and looked back at this Mrs. Campion almost immediately. How long had they been standing there talking? Had he known that Mrs. Campion was going to be here tonight? Who _was_ this woman?

“I…I don’t remember Mary mentioning a Mrs. Campion,” Charlotte forced herself to say.

“I’m sure she used her Christian name. Eliza.” Tom looked at his younger brother again, and smiled. “Perhaps they’ll have their chance at happiness after all.”

Charlotte stood rooted to the spot, as Tom was pulled away by Babington. Dancers swirled around her, but it didn’t occur to her to leave the dance floor. She didn’t even remember that she was standing in the middle of the dance floor. All she knew, with horrible certainty, was that Susan was right. It was an affliction, and it hurt like hell.


	21. Blind Man's Buff

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once again, my thanks for your patience as I churn these chapters out much more slowly than I'd hoped.
> 
> Sidney's reaction to Eliza in Ep 6 has always been a puzzle to me. We don't know what they say, but they seem to speak to each other so easily, despite the way they'd ended their engagement. Kate Riordan's novelization doesn't quite fill in the blanks enough for me, so these chapters are my attempt to solve this puzzle. I'd love to hear what you think!

Charlotte suddenly realized that she was still standing in the middle of the ballroom floor, and felt ridiculous. She could only hope that none of the few people who actually knew her had noticed. She didn’t have to worry about Sidney noticing, though, because he hadn’t taken his eyes off his enchanting Eliza long enough to notice Charlotte standing still like a total moron amidst all the dancers. Trying her best to seem nonchalant, Charlotte made her way to a refreshment table and snagged a glass of wine, downing half of it in one sip. If ever a party called for copious amounts of alcohol, this had to be it.

Charlotte frowned into her glass, trying to figure out what she should do. Did she stay at the ball, knowing that she would obsess over Sidney and Eliza the whole time? Or did she quietly leave and go home, knowing that she would obsess over Sidney and Eliza the whole time? If she stayed, she would have to put on a happy face, and pretend to be fine, while her heart secretly bled. If she left, she would end up being a weepy, pathetic, lonely mess in her flat. If she stayed, should she expect Sidney to drive her home? If she left, would he wonder why? She went back and forth in her mind, weighing all the different pros and cons of both options.

The initial shock of Tom’s revelatory comments was either starting to wear off or else the alcohol was starting to kick in, but Charlotte was starting to feel too many emotions at once. Part of her wanted to cry, and let go of all of the disappointed hopes she had barely begun to acknowledge in a flood of tears. Part of her abhorred the urge to cry, and wanted to take refuge in anger. She wanted to be angry at him, but deep down knew that she had no real cause. She had been the one to make clear that he wasn’t her ‘prom date’ tonight. She had no true claim on him, and it’s not as though she could accuse him of leading her on. He’d made no promises, no real overtures. The most he’d done was to give her a few compliments and one dance, which didn’t really add up to that much. No, the anger was directed inwards, at the romantic part of her that had persisted in trying to make him her personal Darcy. She’d known better. It was so obvious that she and Sidney Parker inhabited different worlds. She had no one to blame for this heartache except herself. 

“Hey Charlotte, are… are you okay?” She looked up to see Babington next to her, looking concerned.

“Yes, I’m fine,” she lied.

“Are you sure?” he asked. “You look a little…fierce. Did the wine say something to offend you?”

She gave him a little smile. It had been a terrible joke, but she appreciated the effort. _‘He must think I’m completely nutters,’_ Charlotte thought morosely. _‘First I run away from him, and now I’m standing around glaring at my wineglass.’_ “I guess I was just lost in thought,” she shrugged, setting down her empty wineglass and taking another. She took a breath, and aimed for normalcy. “I’m sorry about earlier. Running off like that…”

“No worries,” Babington waved aside her apology. “I can’t imagine that it’s easy to breathe in those dresses. Not that you don’t look lovely, of course.”

“Thank you,” Charlotte smiled. He seemed like a really nice guy, and she was feeling something like regret that they wouldn’t get the chance to develop their own friendship. She was supposed to leave Sanditon in under two weeks, and based on the epiphanies of this evening, leaving Sanditon was starting to sound like a very sensible idea. Babington was one of Sidney’s best mates, so it was highly unlikely that their paths would cross again after she left. “Any luck drumming up interest in the regatta?”

“I’m cautiously hopeful,” he answered. “This ball ended up drawing some surprisingly well-connected people. Between them, and Mrs. Maudsley’s article, Tom’s regatta may be quite the event after all.”

“I’m glad to hear it. I think I’ll offer to help coordinate it, if Tom needs help,” Charlotte spontaneously decided. It suddenly occurred to her that she could turn this crazy Sanditon vacation into a resumé booster. She’d have to apply for jobs soon, so why not include her recent activities with the cricket match and regatta as some volunteer work? There must be a way to spin it to make it appealing for a town planner application. And by doing so, salvage the wreckage of her big adventure.

“Tom always needs help. I can’t imagine he’d turn down yours.” Babington snuck a glance across the room, where Sidney was still deep in animated conversation with Eliza. They’d been talking for almost 20 minutes, and Babington wanted to throw something at his friend to snap him out of it. He was well aware of Sidney’s history with Eliza, and had no intention of letting her mess him up again. Especially not now, he reflected, glancing at the woman standing beside him. Babington had watched Sidney dancing with Charlotte, and was fully ready to give her all of the credit for bringing that light to Sidney’s entire demeanor. Eliza never made Sidney glow. Sidney was an idiot if he chose Eliza over Charlotte. Babington wanted to say something to Charlotte, to tell her not to let go or give up on Sidney, but he couldn’t bring himself to do it. He liked Charlotte more every time he spoke to her, but he barely knew her. If she didn’t have feelings for Sidney, his saying something about not letting go would be weird as hell.

“I’ve been thinking about the question you asked me earlier,” Charlotte suddenly said softly. He turned to her in surprise, trying to remember what he’d asked. “I think the answer is no.”

“What do you mean?” Babington asked, trying to buy himself some time to figure out what they were even talking about.

“A person doesn’t change their feelings overnight.” Babington’s eyes flew to Charlotte’s face, though Charlotte kept her gaze on the dancers. Her fingers tightened on the stem of her wineglass as she went on. “The feelings are either there, or they aren’t. What changes is what how we decide to act on those feelings.”

He considered her words, weighing them against Esther’s puzzling and abrupt changes in how she treated him. One day, he’d thought he’d found his soulmate, and the next he was being dumped before their relationship even got going. “Why would a woman decide to act differently from one day to the next?”

“Self-preservation.” Charlotte’s soft answer came almost instantly, and he had to wonder whether she was speaking from past or present experience. “Sometimes the brain needs to step in and remind us of the folly of following our hearts. It’s not like we can chose who we fall in love with.” She turned towards him, and gave a wry little smile that held no amusement. Her dark eyes were soft and sad, and somehow Babington knew that she wasn’t talking about some past relationship. The urge to throw something at Sidney grew stronger.

“Here’s to self-preservation, then,” he replied, clinking his glass gently against hers. They drank their wine in strangely companionable silence, two comrades-in-arms on the battlefield of love. By the time her glass was empty, Charlotte no longer felt the need to drown her heartache- she refused to think of this as heart _break_ \- in wine. She set her glass down just as Babington set aside his. “Charlotte, would you like to dance?”

The offer took her by surprise, but she knew that she could turn him down without him taking offense. She shook her head slightly. “I think I’m danced out for tonight. Can I take a rain cheque…” Charlotte trailed off, suddenly amused. “What _is_ your first name, anyway? I can’t exactly keep calling you ‘Lord Babington’ forever.”

He laughed. “Charles. Charlie, rather. I only use Charles when I’m at work.”

Charlotte’s eyes twinkled. “My granddad used to call me ‘Charlie’. Drove my grandmother batty, since I’d been named for her. She’d give her Glare of Death whenever she heard him call me that.”

Charles shot a surreptitious look over one shoulder, then the other, before leaning in conspiratorially. “I don’t think your grandmother is here,” he said in a stage whisper.

Charlotte chuckled and leaned in as well. “You’re right, I think we’re quite safe.” She straightened up, and reverted to her normal voice. “I actually think I’m going to call it a night.”

“Do you want a lift home?” he offered. He knew she’d arrived with Sidney, and he felt oddly responsible to make up for his boneheaded buddy’s lack of attention.

“No, I’m fine. It’s a nice night, and this isn’t exactly London.”

“Do you want me to give Sidney a message? He’ll wonder where you went.” _‘He damn well better,’_ Charles growled to himself, seeing Charlotte’s eyes become sad again.

“Just tell him…” Charlotte tried to think of the perfect message, but gave up pretty quickly. Perfect zingers only existed in books and television. “Tell him I said good-night.”

“I can manage that,” he assured her. “Will you just humour me and text me when you get back to your flat?” He pulled a business card out of his pocket and handed it to her.

“Sure,” she promised. The simple request warmed her. He really was a very nice guy. Perhaps they could manage to develop that friendship after all. She stepped in closer, and gave him an impulsive kiss on the cheek. “Goodnight, Charlie. I’m sure we’ll see each other at the regatta.”

“Goodnight, Charlie,” he replied with a wink. “I’ll make sure of it.” He watched her walk away, her golden dress catching the light from the chandeliers and making her seem as though she were glowing. There was something about Charlotte Heywood that made him wish, just for a moment, that he’d gotten to know her sooner, before Esther had gotten into his heart or before Sidney had gotten under Charlotte’s skin. _‘Might as well howl at the moon,’_ he thought, borrowing one of Crowe’s favourite lines. There was no point indulging in foolish wishes over what couldn’t be changed. Esther _had_ gotten into his heart, and he didn’t think he’d be able to dislodge her anytime soon, despite the lack of encouragement. As for Sidney, well…his situation wasn’t so hopeless, assuming he came to his senses soon enough. 

* * *

Charlotte realized her dilemma after she taken about five whole steps away from Babington. She wanted to leave, which meant going up the stairs and through the main doorway. Standing in front of that same doorway were the two people driving her decision to leave. There was no way she could pull this off. If she kept walking, avoiding any eye contact and not saying a word to Sidney, she was worried that she’d seem sulky. Or worse yet, as though she were trying to draw his attention by walking right past him. The alternative was to _actually_ draw his attention by interrupting to say good-night, which would either start a whole conversation that she did _not_ want to have in front of Eliza, or Sidney wouldn’t really respond, which would mortify her…in front of Eliza. Why did leaving a room have to be so bloody complicated?

Luckily for Charlotte, Arthur unknowingly came to her rescue. He appeared at her side, and began insisting that she help him settle a debate with Diana. He linked her arm through his, refusing to take no for answer.

“She just won’t accept my opinion,” Arthur complained. “She says that I’d say anything just to get a rise out of her. Which is completely true, as it is my sworn duty as youngest brother to annoy her by any means necessary. But it also means that she won’t believe me when I’m actually being serious.”

“Arthur!” Charlotte laughed, caught up in his energy. “You forgot to tell me something important.”

“Huh? Like what?”

“Like what the debate is about!”

“Oh, that! Minor detail,” Arthur laughed. “It’s about the cakes. Have you tried the chocolate eclairs yet?”

“No….why?” Charlotte couldn’t help being a little suspicious of any debate involving Arthur and cake. What was he up to?

“Diana insisted on having a ‘wider variety’ of dessert options. Tom gave in. She swears that no one will be able to taste the difference between the ones that she procured, and the ones that the caterer provided. I think it’s obvious. You’re going to taste test and help settle the score.”

Charlotte tried to protest, but Arthur was having none of it. All too soon, they were standing next to Diana and Mary, who was trying to keep a straight face, as Arthur informed Charlotte that it was her job to blindly take a bite of two eclairs, and then tell Diana which one was the gluten-free, xylitol-sweetened carob coconut version and which was the chocolate cream version. Charlotte tried giving him her best Glare of Death, but hers simply didn’t have the power of her grandmother’s.

* * *

Sidney flicked his eyes away from Eliza’s face, looking for the gleaming gold of Charlotte’s dress. She’d been standing and talking with Babbers for a good while, but now he couldn’t spot her. He hoped she hadn’t left. Of course she hadn’t. Charlotte wouldn’t slip out without telling him she was leaving…would she?

He gave Eliza his attention again. He was beyond surprised at how well this unexpected interaction was going. He’d never been quite sure that he could see Eliza Campion, let alone speak to her, without spewing vitriol all over her, which would only have confirmed in her mind that he was still carrying a torch for her. To be honest, until seeing her again, Sidney wasn’t even certain whether he was carrying that torch or not. He’d often wondered whether the depths of his loathing for Eliza was just a different face of the same passion. When all you have left are memories, how can you be sure what is real?

This conversation, this moment…this was the first real chance he’d had in years to test out what was inside him for this woman. Turns out the answer was…complicated. Way more complicated than Sidney had expected. It wasn’t hatred, which was something of a relief. Carrying the weight of that much bitterness was exhausting, and Sidney was glad to finally be rid of that burden. But was it still love? He wasn’t so sure.

Eliza was the best version of herself tonight, the one that he’d initially fallen for. She was witty and charming, full of light and life, and it was surreal how easy it was to fall into conversation together. They avoided the obvious topics- her cheating, her marriage, her divorce- but there was no shortage of other things to talk about. It was like reconnecting with an old, dear friend…and Sidney had never considered Eliza a friend. She’d been a temptation, a lover, a partner, an adversary, but ‘friendship’ hadn’t been a defining quality of their relationship. She was the Eliza that he’d made himself forget, because the pain of remembering the good parts had been too much. Was it possible that her marriage and divorce had left their mark on her, and that she’d decided the cost of ambition was too high? If she had stayed _this_ Eliza, would they ever have split up? _This_ Eliza was the one that he’d loved.

He glanced over the crowd again, looking for that flash of bright gold. Where did she go? He finally spotted her, laughing with Mary and his siblings over by the refreshments. Something deep inside him warmed. It was such a happy tableau, Charlotte with his family, that he wished there was a way to sneak a picture. It was exactly the kind of picture that Mary would frame and put on the mantle.

“Sidney, do you want to maybe go somewhere else? Where we can catch up with more…privacy?” Eliza asked.

He’d have to be an idiot not to catch the insinuation, but he wasn’t tempted. It was too much, too soon, and he was a little surprised that she’d even made the offer. “I don’t think that’s a good idea,” he said, smiling to take any sting from his rejection. “Besides, I sort of came here with someone tonight. I’d hate to bail on her like that.”

Eliza’s eyes sharpened at this, but Sidney had looked away and didn’t notice. She wondered if the ‘someone’ he’d come with was the brunette in the gold dress that he’d been dancing with when she’d arrived at this stupid party. She’d seen how they’d been staring at each other during that dance, and had watched their body language closely. In her expert opinion, Eliza was certain that Sidney hadn’t slept with her yet- there was too much anticipation and longing in their movements, which made the girl a fool in Eliza’s eyes. You didn’t keep a man like Sidney Parker on the hook, because someone else was going to come along and make a play for him. As the little brunette was about to learn the hard way. “I can’t pretend that I’m not disappointed,” she said, with a little pout. “When are you heading back to London? Surely we can both fit a couple of drinks into our schedules?”

“I’m not heading back for a few more weeks,” Sidney heard himself say. He actually hadn’t made plans one way or the other, since he could work remotely fairly easily, but the words just popped out. A few more weeks was all that was left of Charlotte’s vacation in Sanditon. He had no clue what was between them, or what he wanted their to be between them, but going back to London would hardly help hm figure it out. After tonight, he was more confused than ever.

“Seriously?” Eliza asked incredulously. Why would anyone stay in Sanditon longer than absolutely necessary? If someone wanted to beach, why not go to Brighton? “I mean, you’ve been gone for a while. I’m just surprised that you’re not heading back now that your brother’s festival is done.”

“How did you know that I’ve been ‘gone for a while’?” Sidney asked, taken aback by her remark.

“When the sexiest man in London disappears, people notice,” Eliza responded, giving him a saucy little wink. She’d misspoken, she knew, and tried to rally before he got too suspicious. “Why do you think I’m here, Sidney? I knew you were here and I…well…I felt like I had to see you.”

“Closure, Eliza?” he suggested.

She shook her head. “Closure sounds too final. Maybe I just want to exorcise some ghosts. Are you sure we can’t find a way to talk more? This is hardly the time or place.”

Exorcising ghosts was something that Sidney could relate to. Perhaps Eliza also needed a chance to let go of the weight of the past. Maybe he’d been too hard on her in his innermost thoughts, and vilified her more than she’d deserved. “I don’t know my schedule off the top of my head, but I will certainly be here for the 200th anniversary of the Sanditon Regatta. Come back and check it out. I’ll give you a tour of the town.”

“Sounds like fun. I guess I’ll be seeing you, Sidney.” Eliza gave him a kiss on each cheek, European-style, and sauntered away. Sidney immediately went down the steps and into the crowd in search of Charlotte, congratulating himself on handling the Eliza situation so well. He knew she wouldn’t come back for the regatta, and she knew now that she couldn’t just ring her little bell and make him start drooling. Maybe they would be able to meet up for drinks now and again in London. Why not? Based on the night Sidney had been having, it really seemed like anything was possible.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Blind Man's Buff is a kids' game, where one person is blindfolded, spun around until they are disoriented and then has to tag another player. It seemed like a good fit for how everyone seems to be stumbling around, not knowing where they stand in relation to one another.


	22. The End of an Era

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter has been a loooong time coming. I am so sorry for making you wait! My hope is to be able to write every day this week, and churn out several more chapters for you.
> 
> This chapter bridges Episode 6 and Episode 7, which jumps us straight from the reveal of Eliza to being back in Sanditon. I've always wondered what Sidney and Charlotte were thinking and feeling in the immediate aftermath of the ball, and this is my attempt to fill that void.

Sidney started to make his way to join his siblings and Charlotte at the refreshment table. He hadn’t made it many steps before being waylaid by Tom, who began waxing poetic about second chances and revivification. It took Sidney a moment or two to catch on to what his brother was insinuating. He took his eyes off Charlotte to gape at his brother in disbelief. Surely Tom didn’t think that Sidney was going running back to Eliza, just because she showed up in Sanditon tonight. Hadn’t he just been congratulating himself on _not_ giving the impression that all was magically forgiven and forgotten? Yet listening to Tom, you’d think the part where Eliza had crushed his heart under her pointy heel had never happened…

“Seriously, Tom?! You’re like a twelve-year-old girl!”

Tom stopped mid-sentence, and blinked at his younger brother. Sidney kept going, part of his brain aware that he was simply taking out his own confusion on Tom. “Next you’ll be expecting me to starting writing out ‘Sidney and Eliza Parker” in my diary, with little hearts over the ‘i’s’. I was just talking to the woman, Tom, that’s all. Just talking. One conversation after all these years does not equate sailing off into the sunset together.”

“You keep a diary?” Tom asked, in surprise. Sidney glared at him. “Sorry, sorry. But really, Sidney, you can’t honestly expect me to believe that it was ‘just talking’. A man doesn’t ‘just talk’ when he sees the woman he’s loved half his life, after years of separation. Not for 20 minutes.”

“An adult doesn’t start weaving pretty fantasies of eternal love, even after 20 minutes.”

Tom sighed. He would never really understand this particular brother, with his cynical resistance to dreaming big dreams and stubborn-as-a-mule focus on the tangible. Tom sometimes forgot that he was actually the elder brother, as he felt so much younger at heart than Sidney. But he loved him, and relied on him, and it was painful to see Sidney refusing to even consider the possibility of happiness. And Eliza Campion was everything he could want for Sanditon…and Sidney, too, of course. “Believing in something doesn’t make you less of an adult, Sid. I’m not suggesting that you go off hunting unicorns and mermaids. I’m only suggesting that perhaps even you will have a second chance at happiness. You deserve to be happy. Maybe your paths crossed tonight for a reason.”

It was Sidney’s turn to sigh. Tom meant well, he knew that. It was just that Tom found it so easy to focus on the shiny and beautiful, and ignore the difficult and complicated. The very thought of a second chance at happiness, particularly with Eliza, was all of those things- shiny and beautiful, difficult and complicated. And when you added in the extra layer of the past few weeks with Charlotte, it grew even more complicated. It wasn’t nearly as hard as Tom thought to imagine a second chance. He just couldn’t figure out who he was supposed to have that chance with.

Speaking of Charlotte, where had she gone? In the few minutes of conversation with Tom, Sidney had lost sight of her. She’d been at the refreshment table only a few moments before, laughing with Arthur, but she must have walked away. Sidney scanned the room, but couldn’t see the flash of golden gown anywhere. Maybe he was being needlessly paranoid, but if even Tom had noticed that he’d been chatting with Eliza for so long, did Charlotte? She couldn’t have known who Eliza is- or is to him- but she wasn’t the sort to get annoyed at him for talking to another woman. Was she? Sidney could feel the bright glow of optimism he’d had only a few minutes ago start to seep away. He no longer felt like anything was possible, and the tidal wave of different emotions was beginning to exhaust him. Maybe he could find Charlotte, and convince her to drive her home. A few minutes of relative quiet, in her company, was probably all that he needed to restore his equilibrium. But first… “Tom, just don’t rush me,” he said to his brother, keeping his voice gentle. “Maybe there _is_ a reason why she was here tonight. Just please give me time to sort it out my way.”

Tom beamed. It was exactly what he needed to hear, and his brain immediately turned to other matters. “Did you speak with Mrs. Maudsley? She interviewed me at length for her article, but perhaps she would want to interview you as well. Or maybe have a few photos of you taken?” His voice trailed off, as he looked around the room for the all-important writer of the all-important article. Sidney took advantage of his distraction.

“You go look for her by the refreshments, Tom. I’ll go this way.” Tom clapped a hand on Sidney’s shoulder, misconstruing- as Sidney intended- that Sidney was also going to look for Mrs. Maudsley to praise the glories of Sanditon, and took off in the direction of the food. Sidney was on a very different mission, to find a very different woman.

After a few minutes of searching the crowded ballroom, Sidney was starting to feel disgruntled. He’d searched the little room where he’d found her before their dance, but she wasn’t there. She wasn’t by the refreshments. She wasn’t dancing. Where _was_ she? He started to turn in the direction of the women’s restroom, telling himself that it wasn’t really _that_ creepy to look for her there, when he saw Babbers heading his way. He flicked a smile at his friend, and immediately asked, “Hey, have you seen Charlotte?”

“She left, you git,” Babbers replied. Sidney stopped moving, and looked at him, confused by both the words and tone.

“What do you mean, she left?” Sidney asked, choosing to overlook the insult for the moment.

“Which part wasn’t clear? She- meaning Charlotte, left- meaning no longer here,” Charles spat out. He knew that perhaps he was projecting more than a bit of his own heartache and confusion, but how clueless could Sidney be?

“When? Why?”

“She was on her way out when she and I parted ways a good 15 minutes ago. She said to tell you ‘good night’.”

“But…why?” Sidney asked again.

“Are you seriously that much of a wanker? And all these years, I thought you were the one who understood women.”

“Babbers, what the hell are you going on about? I have spent the last 10 minutes looking all over this bloody building for her, and she’s left? Without a word? Did something happen? Why did you let her leave?”

“Why did _I…_ you really are that much of a wanker, after all. Why did _you_ abandon her for half a bloody hour to gaze into the eyes of that succubus Eliza? What was there to stay for, after that display?”

Sidney felt his stomach drop out through the soles of his feet. “She knows who Eliza is…was…to me? What did you tell her?”

“I didn’t have to tell her, you moron. She has eyes and a brain, among her other admirable qualities.”

Sidney’s head was whirling with confusion, and he felt almost dizzy trying to make heads and tails out of how quickly his night had seemed to upend itself. Everything that had seemed so bright and promising about tonight had become unexpectedly tarnished. He’d been so taken aback by Eliza’s surprise appearance that he’d practically abandoned Charlotte on the dance floor. No…she’d been asked to dance by Tom. Tom! He’d been so damn pleased with himself over being able to speak with Eliza at such length, with so little emotional turmoil, that he hadn’t thought about how it might look to someone like his brother. And now he knew _exactly_ how Tom had interpreted his interaction with Eliza. What the devil had he said to Charlotte? He wouldn’t have repeated his romantic nonsense to her, would he? “Tom,” he groaned. “It must have been Tom.”

“You don’t get to blame Tom. Not for this one.”

Why are you so angry with me?” Sidney finally blurted out. Shouldn’t Babington, his closest mate, be on his side? Couldn’t he see how muddled Sidney was at the moment?

“Because Tom, whatever he did or did not say, is not the one who put the wounded look in that lovely girl’s eyes.” Charles watched Sidney seem to deflate, as his words punctured Sidney’s thick skull. Good. Sometimes being a good friend meant dishing out the cold, hard truth. Maybe Sidney would snap out of his self-absorbed wallow, and man up enough to grovel.

“I am a stupid git, aren’t I?” Sidney admitted ruefully.

“The stupidest,” Charles agreed. “You planning on staying stupid?”

“Can you help me smarten up?”

“I guess I should try. You’re pretty pathetic without me, you know.”

“I know.”

* * *

Charlotte walked down the quiet sidewalk, enjoying the crisp night air. She’d never have been able to walk alone at night and feel this safe in London, and she rather savoured this opportunity. The fresh air and solitude were helping to clear her brain, too, so that she no longer felt quite so morose about the evening. As she walked towards her flat, she imagined that she was stepping back through the time portal towards the 21st century, finally leaving Regency England behind. And she was finally ready to say goodbye to her childish fantasies and live in the real world.

‘ _At least this really_ is _the 21 st century,’ _Charlotte mused. If she truly had been living in the 19th century, she’d never have been permitted to walk alone anywhere, let alone at night. She’d have been forced to stay at the ball until her carriage had been summoned, at the mercy of her chaperones or family. Since Sidney had driven her to the ball, it would have been his carriage she’d have been forced to wait for. She tried to picture it, Jane Austen-style: waiting it out at the ball, longing to leave to put some space between her and her certain gentleman, only to have to endure small talk in a confined carriage the whole way home with that same gentleman. Ugh. That would have been awful. Like, Emma on Christmas with Mr. Elton awful. She did feel a small twinge of guilt for essentially running off without saying a word to him, but she knew it was the right decision. She mentally shuddered to picture how horribly awkward it would have been to drive home with him, putting on a brave smiling face to hide her hurt and confusion. And what if he’d wanted to leave with his Eliza, but felt obligated to drive Charlotte home instead? No, leaving had been the right choice, even if she had felt more than slightly stupid watching him out of the corner of her eye to make sure he didn’t spot her sneaking away.

The again, 19th century Charlotte would have had the option to fake a headache or some other illness to make them take her home sooner. Charlotte wondered if she’d have been able to pull off a convincing swoon, if needed. Probably not. She wasn’t that graceful. Although, come to think of it, she kinda had pulled the 21st century equivalent by telling Arthur, Mary and Diana that she was tired. Maybe some things hadn’t changed all that much in the past 200 years after all.

Charlotte reached her building, and texted Charlie as soon as she was inside her flat. ‘ _Home safe. Good night, Charlie.’_

It didn’t take long for him to reply, making Charlotte wonder if he’d been watching for her text. He seemed like the kind of decent guy who would have kept an eye on the clock and calculated exactly how long it would take her to make it home in one piece. ‘ _Thanks, Charlie. Sleep well.’_

Charlotte went into her bedroom, to get ready to attempt sleep, but stood in front of her mirror looking at herself for several long minutes. She took a deep breath, and slowly reached up to take the gold ribbon and pins from her hair. With every lock that tumbled down to her shoulders, she imagined leaving the world of Austen that much farther behind. Her eyes stung with a few tears that she would not let herself shed. It was time to look forward, not back. She was no young lady of Austen gentility, trained from birth to play the piano and find a wealthy husband. She was Charlotte Heywood, with a solid respectable degree under her belt, a good brain, and a solid work ethic.

She undid the buttons on the side of her dress, and stepped out of it, taking pains to hang it carefully in the closet. It was too beautiful to leave in a heap on the floor, and she knew that the sight of this dress hanging in her closet would spark her memories for years to come. And if, down the road, the sight of the gleaming golden dress brought her back to a dance floor in Sanditon, her heart in her throat as she whirled around the dance floor, intense dark eyes locked on hers…well, that made her one of the lucky ones who knew what that felt like.

Charlotte found herself thinking about one of the later scenes in Pride & Prejudice, where Elizabeth Bennet finally admits to herself that Mr. Darcy was the only man for her, when it seemed too late for their love to succeed. For first time in her life, Charlotte pitied the character. Elizabeth Bennet didn’t know, as every reader did, that her happily-ever-after was a sure thing. Elizabeth Bennet would have had only two choices- to become a spinster, pining for the memory of the man who got away, or to marry a man she didn’t love and hope for the best. Charlotte, on the other hand, had more choices than she could list. Tomorrow would be soon enough to start the task of listing them. For tonight, it was enough to know, deep down, that there were options. So what if Sidney Parker didn’t return her feelings? Wasn’t it enough, for today, to know that she could feel this much for someone? To have learned that she can admit to being wrong about someone and open her eyes to seeing them differently? She’d come to Sandition to be Charlotte, to figure out who Charlotte Heywood was deep down, and she’d certainly accomplished that. The Charlotte Heywood she was today was stronger, and maybe even wiser, than the one who’d arrived in Sanditon longing for romance and adventure.

Charlotte slid into bed, exhausted but convinced that she wouldn’t be able to sleep. She expected to toss and turn, but the myriad emotional twists and turns of the evening proved draining enough that she dropped off to sleep within moments. She was sound asleep when her phone beeped with an incoming text, lost in dreams of candlelight and the swirling sounds and colours of a ballroom. And if the man in those dreams looked suspiciously like Sidney Parker, well…there was no one else there to know about it.


	23. The Strange Ways of Fate

Charlotte sat at the small writing table in her living room, a steaming cup of coffee and a pad of paper in front of her. She nibbled absentmindedly on the end of her pen as she thought about what to write. She took the pen from her mouth, and wrote in large block letters at the top of the page _NEXT STEPS_. She paused, then underlined the words twice, as though emphasizing to herself the importance of the heading.

She’d woken that morning feeling strangely energized and determined to focus on the future of Charlotte Heywood. She could almost see the words floating around her head, like the title of a novel. _The Future of Charlotte Heywood_. She was determined to be her own author, and decided to start by listing what she needed to do to begin the next phase of her life. Graduate school was over. Her month-long vacation of indulgence would end in just a few days. Time to quit mooning about and get serious about what would come next.

  1. _Polish my CV._
  2. _Look for job openings. NOT in London._



That was as far as she got before got distracted thinking about where she might end up. Charlotte knew that London wasn’t the right place for her, and she wasn’t all that excited about the prospect of living at home in Willingden until a job offer came along, but she really didn’t know _where_ to focus her job search. She put down her pen, picked up her coffee, and took a pensive sip while looking out her window down at the quiet morning streets of Old Sanditon. The truth was, she loved Sanditon. It called to her, and felt like it could be home, with the one small not-inconsequential problem of her lack of income. In the quiet of her rented flat, Charlotte could easily admit that she wanted to stay. It was so easy to picture herself here: becoming a regular at the bakery, evening walks along the beach, Sunday dinners with Tom and Mary and the kids. But dwelling on the impossible wouldn’t get her anywhere, and the last few weeks had shown her just how perilous dwelling on the impossible could be to her heart. It was time to use her brain, and be the logical, sensible woman that her parents expected her to be. With a small wistful sigh, Charlotte opened up her laptop and got to work on her CV.

After a solid 30 minutes of typing, re-phrasing, formatting and some frustrated staring at the screen, Charlotte was ready to take a break. She stretched, working out the kinks in her neck from her horrible computer posture, and took a sip of her now-cold coffee. She glanced out the window again, at the lovely sunny day, and decided that a walk to the bakery was in order. She threw on a simple flowered dress with a thin grey cardigan, and grabbed her purse. She made it to the door when she realized that she not only didn’t have her phone, but that she hadn’t looked at it all morning. She’d been so determined to focus and get to work organizing her life that she hadn’t touched it, or even turned off the do not disturb feature. As she picked it up, she noticed that she’d missed several texts.

Mary’s was the most serious: _Mrs. Denham is in the hospital. Tom says she is barely conscious. He’s more distressed about this than I’d expected._ ☹ Charlotte sent back a sympathetic response, offering to mind the children if Mary wanted to visit the hospital.

Alison had sent two or three messages, asking about Regency Prom and demanding to see pictures of her hot date. Charlotte felt a little pang, thinking of the ones Sidney had texted her outside the ball. She’d send them later, she decided, and fired off a quick response to buy herself some time before telling Alison how non-magical the ball had turned out to be.

From Georgiana, Charlotte had a sullen text complaining about Mrs. Griffiths trying to force her to go outside and do her community service work. Charlotte decided to pick up a muffin and coffee for Georgiana and walk it over to her. Maybe she could cheer her up a bit. Maybe.

Charlotte scrolled to the next, freezing when she saw that it was from Sidney. _I’m sorry we didn’t get another dance. Rain cheque?_ She puzzled over his text for a moment or two, trying to decide whether he was trying to tell her that he preferred her to Eliza, or whether he was just stringing her along. It was impossible to tell from a text. She had no desire to play any games, but she was really loathe to come across as hurt or jealous. After thinking about it for longer than she’d ever admit to anyone, she wrote back. _Sure. Next Regency Prom, you can have the waltz._

As she walked towards the bakery, enjoying the sunshine, Charlotte couldn’t help but compare her situation to Georgiana’s. The more she thought about it, the less she felt justified in even making the comparison. Georgiana had been taken advantage of, emotionally and psychologically, for Otis’s personal gain. Perhaps he also truly loved her, but wouldn’t sincere love have come with more honesty and openness? Had he told Georgiana of his visa issues, Charlotte thought there was a pretty solid chance that Georgiana would have agreed to marry him anyway. His silence undermined any protestation of devotion to her. Imagining herself in Georgiana’s shoes, Charlotte would have been doubting and second-guessing every moment of their relationship, looking for clues that she hadn’t picked up on in time. Georgiana had reason to be heartbroken, and to want to pull her covers over her head and ignore the outside world. By comparison, Charlotte didn’t really have much to complain about. She’d met an enigmatic, fascinating, ridiculously sexy man, with whom she’d shared one incredible almost-kiss, a few intense glances, some strangely honest conversations and a dance straight out of a movie. Sidney had made her no promises, no avowals of deep emotional connection, nothing. That there was something between them, Charlotte did not question. But- and she couldn’t help the Austen comparisons, despite her determination to live in the current century, she had nothing to reproach him with. She hadn’t been dumped or duped. If this _was_ love, it wasn’t a fatal affliction.

Charlotte pulled her thoughts back to earth when she reached the bakery, and chose what she thought would be a tempting pastry for Georgiana, and hoped it wouldn’t get too crushed in her purse. It was the only way to carry the paper bag and two cups of coffee. Luckily, Georgiana’s room wasn’t that many blocks away, and Charlotte was there in only a few minutes. As she walked up the steps, she was startled to see Sidney leaving, and almost walked into him. She stopped abruptly, ignoring a small splash of coffee on her right thumb, and quickly composed her expression into what she hoped was something both pleasant and neutral.

Sidney paused for only a moment, before flashing a smile that even he could tell did not look truly happy. “Oh. Charlotte,” he said stupidly. He couldn’t think of what to say to her. He’d imagined his next opportunity to talk to Charlotte, and how he would try to fix his gaffe from the previous night, but he hadn’t pictured it taking place right outside Georgiana’s door. Or when his head was full of Georgiana’s cryptic accusation that a ‘man like him can never change.’ He’d wanted to ask her what that meant, what kind of man she imagined him to be, but he hadn’t. For one, he didn’t want to make the conversation about him, when he had gone to see her to try to be more of the friend she seemed to need. Nor did he really want to hear how low her opinion of him was, particularly after last night’s insult-fest from Babington. Did Georgiana also think him a total wanker? Was it possible that he wasn’t actually a good person? He felt as though his entire self-perception needed to be taken down off a shelf, dusted off, and examined under a microscope.

“Sidney,” Charlotte replied, making effort to keep her voice light as she searched for something to say. He wore a simple black sweater and slacks, but her mind flashed to how he looked in his Regency finery the night before. He was looked good in everything he wore- ‘ _and when wearing nothing at all,’_ her traitorous brain reminded her- and her attraction to him was both distracting and unwelcome at the moment. She would _not_ bring up the ball. Her future happiness did not depend on any man, not even this one. She glanced away, and then back at him. “How is Georgiana?”

Sidney looked at the closed door behind him, hesitated as he thought of his conversation with the room’s occupant, and grimaced lightly. He turned back to Charlotte. “I think she’ll be happier to see you,” he admitted, and then started to walk down the steps. Charlotte continued up, thinking their conversation over, and was telling herself to park it in the back of her mind until later. She could take it out and dissect his voice and expressions once she was back in her flat, alone.

Sidney made it three steps before he started mentally kicking himself. He could imagine the look on Babington’s face, if he’d told him how he let this opportunity to fix things with Charlotte slip through his fingers, just because he was feeling uncharacteristically awkward and embarrassed. But how did you repair a relationship that hadn’t quite begun yet? He turned back to Charlotte, clearing his throat. “Ummm…do you mind if I wait for you?” Not the smoothest thing he could have said, but it would have to do.

Charlotte couldn’t stop her eyebrows from raising. Whatever she’d thought Sidney might say, it wasn’t that. It was amazing how many different thoughts could race through her mind in just a few seconds. Why did he want to wait for her? Maybe he did prefer her to Eliza, and this was his way of showing her? Or maybe he just saw her as a friend, and didn’t mean anything other than a friendly offer of friendly company? Or maybe he saw her as Georgiana’s friend, and wanted to compare notes of their impressions of her wellbeing? Or maybe…or maybe…’ _park it, Heywood,’_ Charlotte told herself sternly. ‘ _Dissect later.’_ “No, I don’t mind,” she responded simply. “But I should head up. The…the coffee’s getting cold.”

Knowing that Sidney was waiting downstairs kept her visit shorter than Charlotte had intended, but that wasn’t such a bad thing. Georgiana clearly wasn’t doing well, but it was hard to spend a lot of time with her in this state, even though Charlotte felt guilty about that. Georgiana didn’t want to talk about Otis, even though it was glaringly obvious that she needed to, but didn’t want to talk about or do much of anything else. Except lay on the bed in her pajamas, curtains drawn, wallowing in her misery. If this was the picture of heartbreak, Charlotte mused, then her feelings for Sidney must not be love. It was silly of her to let Susan put the idea in her head.

Sidney sat on the steps in the sunshine, chin in hand. He stood up as soon as he heard the door squeak, and smiled at Charlotte. He’d taken the time while she was with Georgiana to think through what he should say and do next, but shied away from exploring why getting this right mattered so much. He only knew that there was a strained politeness between him and Charlotte since last night, and that he didn’t like it. He needed to get them back to where they’d been, with that elusive sense of connection he’d felt in London and on the beach before the Midsummer Ball. “How’d you do in the dark cave of misery?” he asked lightly. “Come enjoy the sunshine.”

Charlotte walked down the steps, and the two of them began to walk down the street with no particular destination in mind. She knew that he’d been joking, but he wasn’t wrong about enjoying the sunshine after 15 minutes in the gloom of Georgiana’s room. Still, she couldn’t help but respond as though he’d been serious. “You need to be patient with her,” she admonished. “Every moment spent apart is….” Charlotte paused, suddenly feeling foolish. Who was she to be lecturing Sidney Parker, or anyone really, on love? What did she know of what Georgiana was going through, beyond what an empathetic heart could imagine? Based on the little that Mary, and even Tom, had shared, Sidney probably had a much better idea of what Georgiana was suffering that Charlotte ever could. “Well, you know how sharp the agony of separation can be,” she finished, glancing up at him. There, she’d put it out there as bravely as she could. If he knew that she knew about his past with Eliza, and that she was comfortable talking about it, then he wouldn’t read anything into her words or actions and they could just go on in a friendly way until their paths parted at the end of the week. That had to be the best course of action- to end her Sanditon adventure with memories of Sidney Parker as a friend and light flirtation, and not as some epic what-might-have-been.

Sidney glanced down at her, not sure exactly how to respond to her allusion to Eliza. He didn’t want to pretend not to understand, but he also didn’t want to make it seem as though Eliza still meant so much to him. “Yes, I think you’re right,” he replied, “but fate has a strange way of surprising even the most jaded of us.” Fate certainly had surprised him, crossing his path with Charlotte’s, long after he’d given up on the idea of a true, lasting partnership. Not that Charlotte was ‘The One’ or anything, but she made him believe in the possibility for the first time in years.

Charlotte understood what he was trying to say. Fate had brought him and Eliza together again after so many years apart, at a time when both were single and unattached. He must never have allowed himself to imagine what might be, if Eliza were suddenly available again. She wasn’t quite at a place where she could be truly happy for him- although she hoped that would come with time and distance- but she cared enough about him to be glad that he was willing to let go of some of his cynicism. “You’re not nearly as unfeeling as you pretend, you know,” she said with a slight smile.

“Well, if that is the case, I have to ask you to keep that to yourself,” he smiled back, matching her playful tone. He dropped his voice and pretended to scowl disagreeably. “I have a reputation to uphold.” He couldn’t hold the expression, though, and his smile broke through. He felt a combination of joy and relief, that he and Charlotte were back to place where they could banter.

“You’re secret is safe with me,” Charlotte replied, with an arch look. They continued walking together, until they found themselves back at Charlotte’s flat. She thanked him for the company, and went back inside to work on her CV a bit more and to start looking at what job openings might exist out there in the real world. Spending those few minutes in Sidney’s company had made it very clear that she was fooling herself if she thought she could just view him as a friend. His smile made her smile, and being around him just made her long to spend more time with him. Four more days, and then she’d be back in Willingden. Charlotte didn’t know whether she should take every possible minute with him, to soak them up and save them for later, or whether prudence and self-preservation demanded that she avoid him. Finally, she decided to leave that part up to fate. It was only four days. Surely nothing earth-shattering would happen.


	24. A Change of Plans

Charlotte looked at the old woman, lying in crisp white bedsheets oblivious to the sounds and bustle of the hospital outside her room, and felt extremely out of place. When she’d called Mary, to ask after Mrs. Denham and offer whatever support she could, she hadn’t expected Mary to ask her to come with for a visit to the hospital.

“She has no children, you know,” Mary had said, “just her nieces and nephew, and I can’t really see any of _them_ putting their own interests on hold to sit by her side. I hate the idea of someone being all alone in a hospital. Would you mind terribly if I asked you to come with?”

Charlotte could hardly have said no to such a fundamentally _good_ request, and so, for the second time that day, she found herself in a cheerless room with a someone who couldn’t get out of bed and offered no conversation. ‘ _And it’s thoughts like those why you’ll never reach Mary’s level of goodness,’_ Charlotte rebuked herself. It wasn’t right to compare Mrs. Denham, unconscious from a sudden high fever brought on by an untreated infection, to Georgiana, wallowing in the misery of not having eloped with a duplicitous lover. Still, Charlotte couldn’t help but reflect, yet again, on the peculiar something in Sanditon which kept pulling her into a strange intimacy with the lives of people she barely knew. She tried to remind herself that this visit was an act of charity, because otherwise she would feel like an unwelcome intruder. She really didn’t belong here, paying a sick visit to a comatose almost-stranger.

The discomfort only increased when Edward and Esther Denham arrived together. Charlotte was sure she saw looks of surprise- and not a pleased kind of surprise- on both their faces when they placed who she was. She said what she hoped were the proper pleasantries in such a situation, and tried to encourage Mary by mental telepathy that perhaps they should leave. Mary, unfortunately, seemed immune to Charlotte’s telepathic brain waves, and they were still there a few minutes later, when the doctor came in with an update. Dr. Fuchs was a serious-looking, middle-aged man, who wasted no time getting straight to the point. Regrettably, to Charlotte’s mind, he also wasted no time verifying the identities of the people in the room before he began sharing his bleak view of Mrs. Denham’s prognosis. She did her best not to squirm and look longingly at the doorway, as she heard information that really was none of her business. It wasn’t that she was heartless- she did feel sorry for the Denhams, learning that their aunt was unlikely to recover. It was more that she felt like she was intruding on their privacy. Perhaps Mary began to feel the same, because she began saying farewell only a few minutes after Dr. Fuchs continued on his rounds. With relief, Charlotte followed her out of the room, and down the corridor.

“Tom is going to be so distraught,” Mary sighed, as they waited for the elevator.

“I hadn’t realized that he had such a close relationship with Mrs. Denham,” Charlotte responded, unsure of what else to say.

“I wouldn’t say ‘close’,” Mary mused. “It’s hard to define, really. I just know that the two of them seem constantly to be needing the other in their plans for Sanditon and their various enterprises. I wonder if he’ll somehow convince the town council to postpone the regatta, out of respect.”

“Is that likely? It’s coming up soon, isn’t it?”

“Just under two weeks. I’m not sure if it would be possible to postpone at this point, given all the planning and preparations underway. But I think the question should at least be asked, don’t you?”

“Of course,” Charlotte agreed, although she didn’t feel strongly about it one way or the other. “Is the regatta a large event?”

“Compared to Brighton, no. But it’s a well-established, respected regatta for rowers looking to qualify for larger events. It’s very exciting. You’ll have a great time, I’m sure.”

“But Mary,” Charlotte reminded her, as she held open the door for her friend to leave the hospital. “I won’t be here in two weeks. My rental ends in four days, remember?”

Mary drew up short, looking at Charlotte in surprise. “I had completely forgotten! Do you know, I had actually forgotten that you were one of my short-term renters altogether. You just somehow seem like part of the town.”

“That’s a sweet thing to say. I feel like I fit here, to be honest. It will be hard to leave.”

“So why not stay longer?” Mary asked, as the two women resumed walking to where Mary had parked her car. “At least stay for the regatta, Charlotte.”

“I wish I could. But I don’t think it’s possible.”

“Whyever not?” Mary asked. “You told me that you don’t have anyone or anything in particular to rush back to. So why not stay in Sanditon, if it makes you happy?”

“Happiness won’t pay you the rental fees, Mary,” Charlotte laughed. She opened her car door, and slid in, fastening her seatbelt. She wished that it was as easy as Mary made it sound. To just stay, because she wanted to and because it made her happy. Maybe some of Tom’s idealism had rubbed off on Mary, after so many years of marriage.

“Then don’t pay them,” Mary replied, starting the car and easing into the roadway. “Come stay with us, as our friend and guest.”

“Oh, Mary, I couldn’t…”Charlotte began, but Mary cut her off.

“Don’t say no out of some antiquated sense of propriety,” she said. “I haven’t felt such an instant sense of…of kinship with someone in I don’t even know how long. The kids will love having you with us, and I know Tom will as well. Stay with us for two weeks, while you’re sending out your job applications. After the regatta, you can go back to Willingden or wherever you feel you need to go.”

“It’s hard to say no, when I want so very much to say yes,” Charlotte admitted. “But I’ll only agree if I’m allowed to be useful. Will Tom let me help with the regatta, if there is anything left to be done?”

“I imagine he’d be grateful to have your help. And if not, he’ll answer to me!”

Charlotte laughed at the mock ferocious face Mary made. It was hard to picture her truly angry. “I’m too terrified of you now to turn you down. So I’ll say yes, and thank you, Mary. I’ll stay for two more weeks.”

Mary beamed, and her palpable happiness whisked away any lingering doubt or guilt Charlotte felt in accepting her offer. Two more weeks in Sanditon! The sense of relief that Charlotte felt made it hard to ignore just how much she had been dreading leaving. Mary and Charlotte spoke of the regatta, of the children, of everything and nothing during the rest of the drive back to Old Sanditon. They agreed that Charlotte would finish out her stay in the flat, and move over to Mary’s on the last day. It would give Mary plenty of time to set up the best guest room, and give Charlotte a little peace and independence before the children adopted her as their personal entertainment system.

Charlotte raced up the steps to her flat, feeling almost giddy at the prospect of not leaving. She pulled out her phone to call Alison, eager to share her news with someone. Her sister answered after only one ring.

“There you are! I was wondering when you’d get around to calling me. So…spill! Tell me everything about last night!” Alison launched right in, not even bothering with a greeting. Charlotte could hear her impatience loud and clear.

“There’s nothing to tell, Alison. Really! It’s not even why I was calling you…” Charlotte began, but her sister was having none of it.

“There can’t be _nothing_ to tell. I saw those pics you finally got around to sending me. You went to a Regency-themed ball in a glorious dress designed by yours truly, with what might be the sexiest man in the Commonwealth. There has to be something you can tell me.”

Charlotte sighed, knowing full well that Alison could hear her. “Oh, very well. After drinking too much champagne, we took a walk in the moonlit garden. One thing led to another, and we were discovered half dressed in each others’ arms in the hedgerow. Now my reputation has been destroyed, and we’re to be wed by special license in three days time. He’s writing to Papa now to settle the matter of my dowry.”

“Ha. Ha. Ha,” Alison replied. “That sounds like the plot of every Regency romance ever written.”

“Well if you’re not going to believe me that nothing happened, I figured I should make it more interesting for you.”

“And I appreciate the effort, Charlotte, really I do. It’s just that I know you. So what are you not telling me?”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Charlotte couldn’t help asking, although she realized as soon as the words popped out of her mouth that she’d walked right into it.

“You’re an observer. You watch, and analyze, and catalogue everything and everyone. Not in a bad way, mind, just in a Charlotte way. So there’s no way that you, lover of all things Regency and historical, went to a themed ball from your favourite era, and didn’t leave with scads of observations and anecdotes to share with me. Therefore, your brilliant sister must deduce that you don’t particularly want to discuss the ball or something that happened during it. Shall I continue?”

“You don’t really expect me to say ‘yes’ to that, do you?”

“No, but it would have been nice.” Alison gave a light chuckle. “So back to the beginning of the conversation. Spill, Charlotte.”

So Charlotte spilled. She told her sister about Sidney telling her that she was more than equal to any woman anywhere, about Susan of no last name and her theory that Charlotte was in love, about the magical dance that she and Sidney had shared. As Alison sighed and gushed, tossing in ‘I knew it!’ every so often, Charlotte haltingly tried to describe how the evening suddenly soured. She shared what she knew about Eliza Campion, and how she’d left the ball on her own rather than try to put on a façade of happiness in the car ride home with Sidney. It all just came pouring out of her, ending with their walk earlier in the day.

When Charlotte finally stopped, Alison asked hesitantly, “Why do you assume he still loves this Eliza creature?”

“You should have heard the way Tom spoke of her. And Mary had already told me about how very much in love they’d been, and how messed up Sidney had been after she’d left him for Mr. Campion. Isn’t it safer to assume that he’s never gotten over her? Wouldn’t that explain so much of his behaviour towards me?”

“Safer, maybe,” Alison acknowledged. “But you only have four days left there. How much of a consolation prize will ‘safer’ be, when you’re back home in Willingden, awake at two o’clock in the morning, wondering about what might have been?”

“Two weeks, actually,” Charlotte replied, dodging Alison’s question.

“What?”

“Mary’s invited me to extend my stay until after the regatta. I’ll still work on my CV and send out job applications, of course, but I’ll help Tom with the regatta and spend a bit more time with Mary and the kids.”

“You left out a rather significant Parker,” Alison pointed out. “Will Sidney also be in Sanditon for two more weeks?”

“I don’t know. We haven’t spoken of it.” Charlotte tried to use this fact to make her point more strongly. “See why I say there is nothing? If he were falling for me, wouldn’t he have somehow found a way to bring up what happens to us after I leave? He thinks this is the tail end of my vacation. So if he hasn’t suggested some way for us to stay connected, then clearly there is no ‘us’.”

“Or he’s a guy, which makes him a moron,” Alison suggested. “Maybe he’s waiting for you to say something. But you keep running away from him, so he’s second guessing himself. And you.”

“He’s not a sixteen year old with his very first girlfriend. Sidney Parker is a worldly, sophisticated man. If he wanted a woman, he’d let her know.”

“Did you actually just use the word ‘worldly’?”

“Shut it, Alison. You know what I’m trying to say.”

“Yes, and I think perhaps you’re the moron.”

“I’m hanging up on you…” Charlotte threatened.

“Just hear me out before you do. Let’s say that he was starting to fall for you. And then this blast from his past shows up, confusing the hell out of him. So now he’s torn- does he pour his efforts into repairing something damaged from his past, or building something new? He doesn’t know. But the something new runs off, and then puts space between them. So where does that leave him? With just the option of repairing the broken pieces of his past. Also known as Eliza. It’s a self-fulfilling prophecy. If you put up those Charlotte Heywood walls- and you know _exactly_ what I mean- you are almost guaranteeing that you leave Sanditon with only the spectre of what might have been hanging over you. Whether you leave in four days or in fourteen.”

“What would you have me do, Alison?” Charlotte said softly. “Throw my heart at his feet and wait to see if he stomps on it?”

“No, of course not. I’m just hoping you’ll remember that if he does care for you, it’s not because you’re meek and passive. You’ve shown him your spine of steel this whole time, and not scared him off. Leave off with the Austen, and try a little Shakespeare. ‘To thine own self be true.’”

“I’ll see your _Hamlet_ and raise you _Twelfth Night_. ‘Love sought is good, but given unsought is better.’”

“Damn. You always have a quote handy.”

“What can I say? I’m older and wiser.”

“Blah blah blah. Now I’m hanging up.”

“Don’t tell Mum and Dad yet that I’m staying. I’ll call them myself in a few minutes.”

“Sure, no problem. And Charlotte?”

“Yes?”

“Just think about what I said, okay? Don’t give up just yet.”

Charlotte agreed to think about it, mostly to make her sister stop talking. As she hung up the call, she could admit that Alison had made a few good points. Not the part about Sidney being torn between Eliza and her, but the part about wondering about what might have been. It was certainly something to think about more deeply, but not right now. Charlotte did her best to put Sidney, and Alison’s version of him, from her mind, and turned her thoughts instead to all of the reasons why extending her time in Sanditon was prudent and sensible. Armed with her best, most persuasive arguments, she picked up her phone again, and called her parents.


	25. Out of Sight, Still in Mind

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note: I almost got stuck on this chapter. Episode 7 gives us very little sense of timeline, between the return from London and the day of the regatta. I’ve put it at about 2 weeks, but there aren’t many Sidlotte scenes for me to modernize for you during those weeks. So, in the interest of moving the plot forward, we’re going to move through those weeks pretty quickly as well. I did promise you a Sidlotte HEA after all…

Sidney tapped his pen repeatedly on his mouse pad, staring at the spreadsheet in front of him without making any sense of it. He switched his gaze to his window, looking out at a rather dreary London day. It matched his mood perfectly. Suddenly aware of, and annoyed by, his own tapping sounds, he pushed his chair back from his desk, and went to stand in front of the window. He felt restless, and frustrated, and was heartily sick of it. He’d come to London to focus on work for a few days, hoping that some distance from Sanditon- which had somehow become code for Charlotte Heywood- would provide some clarity. It wasn’t working.

When Mary had mentioned that Charlotte would be moving into their guest room and extending her stay for a couple of weeks, Sidney had been secretly relieved. It gave him more time to figure out what he wanted, how he felt, and what to do about it. There was no longer the pressure of her imminent departure back to Willingden, and he had envisioned the two of them meeting for coffee or walking along the beach, and deepening their knowledge of one another. It seemed like a sensible plan- slow, cautious, and totally lacking any drama. It may even have worked, at least as far as affording him some clarity…but it never quite took off. Oh, they saw each other several times. It would have been strange if they hadn’t. It was just that he couldn’t quite seem to get her alone in any slow, cautious, drama-free way. If they were at the house, Alicia and Jenny and Henry claimed one or both of them until bedtime. And while seeing how natural she was with his nieces and nephew was heartwarming, it made him feel more confused. It was the same every time he was around Arthur and Charlotte and heard their friendly faux-arguments, or listened to Charlotte discuss regatta plans with Tom, or walked into the kitchen to see Charlotte prepping dinner with Mary. Every time he noticed how easily Charlotte fit into the rhythms of his family, his finely honed defense mechanisms kicked in. How could someone mesh so well with the Parkers in so short a time? And wasn’t it only natural that he was more than a little panicky because of it?

The truth was, those same defense mechanisms had been painting a picture of independent bachelorhood for so many years that it was the future Sidney had grown to not only envision, but welcome. Companionship when he wanted it, solitude when he didn’t, with no one to depend on him or disappoint him except his own siblings. Charlotte was throwing that future off-course. It was impossible to be around her and the children without feeling almost as though they were playing house. Sidney had firmly stashed away any thoughts about a family of his own, after his breakup with Eliza. Something about Charlotte was making him take out those old thoughts and dust them off, holding them up to the light of day to see how they’ve held up over the years of neglect. Is that what he wanted? The conventional marriage, a litter of kids, house with a yard? And if he _did_ still want that, did that mean he wanted them with Charlotte? It seemed a little crazy to be thinking about marriage or family with a woman whose existence he’d been unaware of two months ago. When he thought about how little they really knew each other, he decided that it must just be an intense physical attraction, magnified by the drama of Georgiana’s near-elopment and the inescapable romance of the Regency fair. Distance, and a reminder of the things he relished about his London lifestyle, would surely be the remedy.

Before leaving for London himself, Babington had suggested that Sidney try the obvious tactic of asking Charlotte out on a proper date, and actually getting to know her that way. Sidney had entertained the notion for about thirty seconds before coming up with several sound arguments against it. For one, there was no way to make such an obvious gesture without his perceptive sister-in-law becoming aware. If Mary knew that Sidney was interested in Charlotte, it would be beyond awkward to show up at the house for dinner or to see the kids. Second, Charlotte still only had a limited time left in her Sanditon stay. If they went out once or twice, what happened after she left? Assuming they wanted to see each other again, that is. A relationship in its infancy couldn’t survive long-distance. Everyone knew that. Third, what if they went out once or twice, and then he realized that he didn’t actually want to see her again? She’d still be staying with his brother and sister-in-law, and he’d be right back in awkward territory.

None of these arguments had persuaded Babington, though. He’d just shaken his head, and said nothing. It was only after Sidney pressed him repeatedly to share what he was thinking that Babbers had finally told him, “You’re so consumed on playing this slow and cautious that you’re going to lose your chance with her. I don’t know if that makes me more angry with Eliza, for making you so scared of putting your feelings out there and taking a risk, or with you for being such a coward.” At the time, Sidney had adamantly protested against both being labeled a coward and the assertion that Eliza was still exerting any kind of influence over him. Even now, sitting alone in his office, Sidney rejected the idea that he was a coward. It wasn’t weakness that made him want to go slowly, it was prudence. The part about Eliza…well, that might actually have been rather spot-on.

It was hard not to wonder about Eliza, now that he was back in London. Sidney had considered ringing her up and offering to meet for coffee, but ultimately decided against it. He knew it was a little immature of him, but he just couldn’t be comfortable with even the shadow of a thought crossing Eliza’s mind that she could turn up after all these years and Sidney would be panting to take her back. It was pride, and it wasn’t pretty, but he couldn’t quite help it. He’d also considered just going out with some of his friends to whatever club they’d chosen for the evening, and finding some girl to go home with. It had been months since he’d gotten laid, and that had to be influencing his interactions with Charlotte. He ultimately decided against this as well. It wasn’t so much that he felt he owed Charlotte some kind of fidelity- they’d never even been on a proper date, after all- but it somehow felt cheap and wrong to use one woman to drive thoughts of another out of his mind. He should have just kissed her in Georgiana’s kitchen when he’d had the chance. Undoubtedly he’d have learned that she was a terrible kisser, or tasted like sardines, or made really annoying arousal sounds, and then that would have been the end of it. Like the time he went out with the girl who made those little humming sounds when he kissed her. It had been such a turn-off that any chemistry between then had vanished.

The memory made Sidney chuckle, and the chuckle snapped him out of his dreary mood and into a more practical frame of mind. ‘ _You can’t sort this out by running from it,’_ he told himself. Babbers hadn’t been completely wrong. Being cautious was one thing, but hightailing it to London to create some mental and physical space was cowardly. The regatta was only a few days away. It was time to go back to Sanditon.

* * *

Charlotte said goodnight to Tom and Mary, and then climbed the stairs to her very comfortable bedroom. Moving into the house as their guest and friend had been nothing short of delightful. As much as Charlotte had enjoyed the novelty of her very own flat, and not having to share a bathroom or clean up after someone else’s mess in the kitchen, it just felt more natural to be part of a family. She missed her siblings, and the comfortable homey sounds and smells. Mary was a natural hostess, and any awkwardness Charlotte may have felt about inserting herself into their home was worn away by Mary’s warmth and obviously sincere affection within about ten minutes.

The biggest surprise to Charlotte had been learning more about the regatta and how little of it actually had anything to do with Tom. From the way he spoke, she’d assumed that he was a major mover and player with the regatta, as he’d been with the Regency fair. It turned out that the Parker family hadn’t been that involved in the Sanditon Regatta for several decades, once it had been taken over by the local rowing club. Tom, Arthur and Sidney would still row in the regatta- apparently there had been a ‘Parker Brothers Rowing Team’ for the past two hundred years- but Tom didn’t have nearly as much to do with the planning, in an official capacity. He was a most active volunteer, though, and had connected Charlotte with members of the rowing club who had gratefully accepted her additional help. Charlotte had also learned more about how the Sanditon Regatta fit into the town council’s strategic plans, and had made the acquaintance of one of the town councillors. She would certainly be able to include some of this in her CV, and the town councillor had offered some very helpful advice on applying for jobs in Charlotte’s field. Staying in Sanditon for the extra two weeks was turning out to be an excellent change.

At least, in terms of her job applications. Romantically speaking, staying in Sanditon was making Charlotte more confused about Sidney, not less. She’d thought that giving herself an extra two weeks would afford more opportunities for the two of them to spend time together and figure out whether there was anything real between them or not. As in, going for a cup of coffee, or taking a walk on the beach. Or maybe even- _gasp!­-_ Sidney would have asked her out on an actual, proper date. None of those things had happened. Sure, they’d had coffee together…in the dining room over Sunday breakfast, while Tom had recited passages from Mrs. Maudsley’s article about the Sanditon Regency Fair at them. They’d had a lovely walk on the beach…with Henry on Sidney’s shoulders, and Jenny and Alicia holding on to both Charlotte’s hands. It had been impossible not to picture them as a little family together, knowing that others on the beach would make that assumption. Charlotte might chide herself again and again for falling into such romantic longings, but it was hard not to. She was the kind of person who was very comfortable in her knowledge that she wanted to find the right life partner, and create a family together. She just didn’t have any clue whether Sidney could potentially be that partner, and he wasn’t making it easier for her to figure out.

For the past few days, he hadn’t even been around, and even that was confusing for Charlotte. On the one hand, she was grateful to have a reprieve from the emotional roller coaster that their interactions in the midst of the Parker Family Circus inevitably created. On the other hand, she found that she missed him anyway. Since running into each other at Georgiana’s, they’d established an unprecedented level of cordiality. The assumptions, the arguing, the animosity…all gone. They were able to converse more easily, and to be around each other without awkwardness (or at least, none that the Parkers seemed to pick up on), and it was all very friendly. It was just enough for Charlotte to be able to see the softer side of Sidney with enough regularity to want to see more. He dropped his guard when he was around the children, or when he was bantering with Arthur, or humouring Diana by trying a new recipe of hers, and that version of Sidney was irresistible. The missing piece was a way to be alone together so that Charlotte could gauge whether he would leave his guard down with her, or whether it would go right back up again. Was he so easy and friendly with her because he was around his family? Or because he saw her as just a friend? Or was there still that sense of connection Charlotte had felt at the ball?

Sometimes she thought she caught him looking at her, with an expression that mirrored her own confused longing. Sometimes she thought it was her imagination. Her time in Sanditon was going to come to an end very, very soon, and she starting to wonder whether Sidney Parker was one of life’s mysteries that she would never have the opportunity to solve. Then again, he was coming back for the regatta. Alison had urged her not to give up yet, and Charlotte was trying to balance that with some healthy self-preservation. There was nothing wrong with waiting to see how he treated her when they saw each other again in a few days. It didn’t mean she was hoping for some grand, romantic gesture, or pining her hopes and dreams of future happiness all on Sidney Parker’s return to Sanditon. She just wouldn’t talk herself into a sense of resignation just yet. Besides, maybe seeing him again after this little break would make it clearer whether what she was feeling for Sidney was coming from her heart or her glands. By the time she left Sanditon, Charlotte would have a better idea of whether or not Sidney’s path would continue to intersect with her. There was no need to try to make that decision tonight.


	26. An Unexpected Arrival

Crossing the resort lobby, on his way outside into the beckoning sunshine, Sidney was surprised to hear his name. Looking around for who might have called him, he was even more surprised when he saw Eliza sitting in a comfortable chair, tablet and coffee on the small table beside her. His surprise must have shown, for her smile flickered slightly before she turned up the wattage and stood up. Sidney crossed over to her, trying to figure out what the hell Eliza Campion was doing drinking coffee in the lobby of the Sanditon resort.

“Sidney! I didn’t think you’d be staying at the resort!” Eliza greeted him, leaning up to give him an air kiss on each cheek.

“I could say the same to you,” Sidney replied, keeping his tone light. He wasn’t particularly happy to see her here. He’d decided not to call her in London because he didn’t want her to think that he was available at a snap of her elegant fingers. He didn’t want her thinking that she could turn up in Sanditon and disrupt his plans, or his life, on a whim. Which brought him back to the only really relevant question. “What brings you to Sanditon?”

“The regatta, of course!” Eliza responded brightly. Sidney was harder to read than she had anticipated. He was clearly surprised to see her, but not as delighted as she’d wanted. If she didn’t know better, she’d think that he was annoyed to see her. But that was absurd. “You invited me, when we saw each other a few weeks ago. I’ve come for the tour of the town that you promised.”

 _He’d done what?!_ Sidney had no recollection of inviting Eliza to the regatta. He started to protest, but stopped before a word escaped. The memory came back to him. _‘Come back and check it out. I’ll give you a tour of the town.’_ He could embarrass them both by insisting that he’d never meant for her to show up, but what difference did it make now? She was here. The damage was done. “Right. Well, I was actually about to head over to Tom and Mary’s house, so maybe…”

She didn’t give him a chance to finish his sentence. “I would simply love to see Mary!” Eliza gushed, her blue eyes bright, and her smile convincing. “It’s been ages since I’ve seen her. Are you sure she wouldn’t mind me showing up unannounced with you?”

Well _that_ wasn’t what Sidney had meant! He’d been hoping to make some vague plans for “later” so that he could escape now and use the solitude of a walk to Tom’s place to clear his head and sort out what the hell was going on. Why had Eliza come? He hadn’t shown any particular interest, and couldn’t imagine why she would be pursuing him. Was it possible that she’d meant what she’d said at the ball, about wanting to exorcise her ghosts? Maybe the best thing he could do was let her have whatever conversation she thought they needed to have, and then he’d have a better sense of what she wanted from him. And what he wanted from her. He’d grown too self-aware to be able to deny that his vanity was flattered that she’d made such an effort to seek him out, and that his curiosity was piqued. With a gesture of his arm, he motioned for her to walk with him. “Mary will be surprised, of course,” Sidney finally replied. “But I doubt she’ll mind.” _‘Or she’ll wait until later to let me hear about it,’_ he thought wryly. Eliza tucked her tablet into her purse, picked up her coffee, and preceded him out the door.

As they walked along the street together, Sidney waited for Eliza to start the conversation. Surely she would take this opportunity to say whatever it was she’d come to say to him? For several minutes, though, she said nothing. It was unlike her to be so quiet. The Eliza that Sidney knew would always fill any perceived void with witty comments or amusing anecdotes. The silence was beginning to stretch Sidney’s nerves, and patience, and he began to point out changes to the town since Eliza had last been there. If she wanted a tour, then he would give her a tour.

“Sanditon is just as I remember,” Eliza commented, in a tone of satisfied nostalgia.

“Hmmm. At first glance, perhaps,” Sidney replied. Did she really not see the growth and changes? He thought today’s Sanditon was very different from the town he’d grown up in. “It’s pretty normal for things to change after all this time. After all, it’s not like either of us are exactly the same person we used to be.” There. If she didn’t know how to begin, then he’d open the door for her.

“Aren’t we?” she replied archly. “I think I’m the same girl I was.” Sidney found her answer confusing. Did she really think that she was the same person that she’s been years ago? The idea of not changing made Sidney a little sad. He may not have been open to the idea of change a few months ago, nor particularly gracious about the process of change, but he appreciated knowing that he could. And which Eliza did she think she still was? The girl he’d fallen in love with- sparkling, charming, bright- was very different from the woman who’d broken his heart- ambitious, image conscious, sophisticated. If he could so easily remember two different versions of Eliza, then how could she honestly believe that she had never changed? Maybe she meant that she’d always been the old Eliza underneath, and the later version wasn’t truly her?

“But who’s to say that I’m the same man?” he countered lightly, keeping his tone playful to hide his conflicting thoughts, but came out more flirtatious than he’d intended.

“You are,” she said with certainty. “I knew it the moment I saw you again.” Her lovely blue eyes smiled into his, and he felt a familiar rush of affection for her. Whether he was still the same man or not, he wasn’t immune to her now any more than he ever had been.

“You know, I’m glad you came,” he spontaneously said, stopping in the middle of the sidewalk. In that moment, he believed it. “But I admit that I didn’t think you’d see the appeal of a small town regatta.”

“I’m not here for the regatta, Sidney.” Her voice was soft, her gaze earnest. “I’m here for you.”

He didn’t know what to say, and she didn’t elaborate. Perhaps it was cowardice, but Sidney didn’t ask her to explain what she meant. Instead, he resumed his walking tour of the town, and they kept the conversation light and impersonal for the rest of the way.

As they approached Tom and Mary’s house, Sidney hoped desperately that Charlotte was off on one of her beach rambles, or at the bakery…anywhere but at home. Eliza’s unexpected arrival hadn’t made him entirely forget that he’d been determined to see Charlotte in the hopes of figuring out what was between them. Nor had he forgotten that Babbers had blamed Eliza for Sidney’s extreme caution with Charlotte. He still wasn’t sure he agreed, but as he glanced down at her shining blond hair, he had to acknowledge that she’d certainly muddied the waters a bit.

Within moments, they were in Mary’s foyer, and Jenny and Alicia were jumping on him and chattering away. Eliza stood patiently to one side, looking amused as if she were watching puppies frolic. As their mother approached and sent them off to fetch their father, Sidney could hear them running down the hall shouting.

“Mary, you remember Mrs. Campion?” Sidney re-introduced the women, and did not miss the slight widening of Mary’s eyes. She didn’t miss a beat, however, and immediately greeted Eliza with her typical graciousness.

“How lovely to see you again!” Mary exclaimed. Her brain was whirling with questions, but they would have to wait until she could ambush Sidney alone. Eliza Campion was one of the last people she would envision to be standing politely in her foyer. Right up there next to Lady GaGa and the Dalai Lama. “What brings you to Sanditon?”

“Oh, Sidney asked me to come to the regatta,” Eliza replied. Since she was looking at Mary, she missed the slight wince that crossed Sidney’s face. Mary didn’t, but didn’t have time to shoot him more then the briefest glance before Tom’s energetic steps could be heard approaching.

“Tom, look who’s arrived!” Mary said, taking over the introductions. “Sidney has invited Eliza to come for the regatta.”

Tom burst into his predictably effusive response. Mary saw Sidney look towards the doorway, and then quickly look down again. She didn’t have to turn around to guess that Charlotte had been standing there. She kept her sigh to herself, and made an effort to join in the conversation with Eliza. What had her boneheaded brother-in-law been thinking? She could have sworn there was something brewing between Sidney and Charlotte, something she very much wanted to see flourish. Leave it to a Parker to carelessly blow it…

* * *

Charlotte had just finished discussing some of the regatta plans with Tom, when Jenny and Alicia burst into the study.

“Papa, Papa!” Jenny shouted, but was cut off by her older sister.

“Uncle Sidney is here!” Alicia added, not wanting Jenny to share all the news. Charlotte felt her heart leap into her throat, and she hoped her expression didn’t show it. She hadn’t realized that he was back in town, or that he’d be dropping by this morning.

“And he’s brought a pretty lady with him!” Jenny added, so that Alicia wouldn’t have the last word. Their father immediately got out of his chair and made his way down the hall. Jenny elbowed Alicia, annoyed the her sister always talked over her. Alicia elbowed her right back. Charlotte, trailing behind them, briefly thought about cueing them, but then decided not to bother. Her thoughts were too jumbled. The moment Jenny mentioned ‘a pretty lady,’ Charlotte’s stomach had dropped to the soles of her feet. Surely it couldn’t be Eliza. It must be some other woman, stopping by for an unannounced morning visit to his brother’s home, for some completely rational reason that had no romantic connection to Sidney.

_Please let it not be Eliza._

Charlotte heard the pleased murmur of voices as she got closer. She briefly thought about just joining everyone, but then hung back. What was the point? If it wasn’t Eliza, then it was someone who had some purpose for being there, which had nothing to do with Charlotte. And if it _was_ Eliza, well…then Charlotte had no wish to put on a company smile and pretend that she didn’t care. Even thought she felt childish hovering in the doorway, it was better than the alternative.

She heard the deep murmur of Sidney’s voice, the name ‘Mrs. Campion,’ and her shoulder dropped. It _was_ Eliza.

The next voice she heard was Mary’s. “Sidney has invited Eliza to come for the regatta.” It was worse than Charlotte had thought. For a tiny little moment, she had wondered if perhaps Eliza’s presence was a coincidence. As if somehow she just _happened_ to show up in Sanditon. It had been a stupid thought, born out of desperation. Of course he’d invited her. He’d just been in London, and clearly they had met up while he was there.

She started to ease out of the doorway, so that she could quietly retreat to the privacy of her room. Perhaps the motion caught Sidney’s attention, because he suddenly looked right at her. Charlotte froze. Their eyes locked, and time stopped. Neither smiled, nor gave any sign of greeting. Sidney suddenly looked rather serious. Sad, almost. He couldn’t hold her gaze, but soon his eyes flickered down briefly, and then back up at her one more time, before he turned back to Tom with an attempt to smile.

Charlotte made her escape to her room, and sat down heavily on her bed. Whatever she’d pictured for their next encounter after he returned to Sanditon, that hadn’t been it. She could hear Alison’s voice in her head, telling her not to give up, but common sense was telling her otherwise. It was time to start growing resigned to never knowing what might have been between them. It was also time for Charlotte to start putting her own guard up when she next spoke to Sidney. Since it was increasingly obvious to her that whatever she imagined between them was one-sided, at least she could salvage her pride. It was a cold comfort, that she hadn’t worn her heart on her sleeve, but it was the only comfort she had right now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for your patience! We're on lockdown over here, with my kiddos learning remotely while I try to work full-time. It's hard to carve out time (or brain space) to write!
> 
> But much like our Mrs. C, I'm never gone for good...


	27. A "Sandcastle" Competition

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize for any typos or inconsistencies. It's hard to both type and watch the Superbowl simultaneously, but I really wanted to get this chapter up tonight!

“Charlotte, come on!!” Jenny squealed, as she ran down the sandy path to the beach. Charlotte laughed, trailing behind a few paces, with Alicia holding one hand and Henry the other. It was a brilliantly sunny morning, the sky a flawless blue, and Charlotte felt as giddy as the children that the day of the regatta had finally come. Breakfast at the Parkers’ that morning had been a happy form of chaos, as each member of the household competed for their share of the energy and conversation on a day that had such promise for each of them. Jenny and Alicia could almost taste the glory of the first place ribbon in the sandcastle competition. Tom had his bright visions of a beach packed with important guests and visitors, each more delighted with his town than the last. Mary held dear her wish that the day didn’t end in tears and disappointment for any of her loved ones. Henry, being only a little tike, didn’t know what the day might bring, but he could only hope it included both ice cream and a skipped nap. Because otherwise, he wasn’t quite sure all this fuss was worth it.

Charlotte had her own wishes for the day, though she didn’t share them at breakfast. She was deliberately keeping her hopes simple and attainable today- she wanted her final big event in Sanditon to be a success, for Tom and Mary’s sake, and to spend her day in the uncomplicated company of the children she had come to love so much. With those aims in mind, she had offered to take them down to the beach herself, to free up Tom and Mary to pursue their own interests that morning. Her heart light, as she ran with her small charges, she felt none of the gloom of the previous evening.

She had given herself a stern talking-to, in the privacy of her room, after Sidney had brought Eliza to the house, forcing herself to be pragmatic about the entire situation. Charlotte was no longer allowing herself to feel any shame or embarrassment over her feelings for Sidney- so long as no one else discovered them. Her feelings were private, but also natural. He was an attractive man, after all, and they had been thrown together into some intense situations over the past month. Charlotte acknowledged that she came to Sanditon in a somewhat vulnerable state, being so uncertain as to her own future. It made sense that she gravitated towards someone as compelling and intriguing as Sidney, and that her confused mind fancied itself in love. Charlotte had managed to convince herself that it was most likely just a deep physical sort of attraction- the man _was_ gorgeous, after all- combined with a glimmer of new respect and affection after coming to understand his personality better. It didn’t have to be love. Or maybe there were different kinds of love, and this was a fleeting ‘I met you on vacation when I was feeling lost and alone’ variety.

Having talked herself into feeling calm and rational again, Charlotte had acknowledged her true goal for the regatta: to avoid Sidney, without anyone realizing that she was avoiding Sidney. It’s not that she didn’t believe the lecture that she’d given herself, or that she didn’t trust herself to be cool and collected around him. Well, maybe a bit of both. But it was more that she wanted her last strong memories of Sanditon to be of something more than a guy. She had so few days left, and Sidney Parker had somehow come to monopolize so much of her brain space in the last weeks, and she wanted to create some mental distance for herself. Charlotte wanted to be able to look back on this adventure from some point in the future and remember it as ‘that incredible summer I spent in Sanditon on my own…and wasn’t there some guy I had a crush on?’ If she didn’t make this effort in her final days of vacation, she feared that she would forever look back on this summer as ‘that time I fell in love with a guy who couldn’t care less…and didn’t I go to the beach once or twice?’

“Chaaaarrrr-lottte!” Jenny called out, bringing Charlotte back to the present. She had scampered several meters ahead to the spot she wanted for the Award Winning Sandcastle, and was waiting impatiently for Charlotte and her younger siblings to catch up. Jenny was already on her knees, smoothing a wide swath of sand for the foundation of their castle, by the time the others reached her. She immediately began directing Alicia and Charlotte, to her older sister’s slight dismay, and gave Henry the job of filling the plastic bucket with sea water. Charlotte smoothed over any small sibling squabbles, and the enthusiastic crew got to work. With the breeze ruffling her dark hair, the warmth of the sun on her skin, and the happy chatter of children providing the soundtrack, Charlotte took a mental snapshot of the moment. ‘ _This,’_ she thought, ‘ _this is the Sanditon I will remember.’_

* * *

The sun was shining. The sky was that ideal summer shade of flawless blue. The breeze carried with it the briny tang of the sea. It was a perfect morning in Sanditon, and Sidney Parker wished he was anywhere but where he was. He gave the entire blame for that to the woman prattling away at his side.

He glanced up and down the beach, noting that there were not yet many spectators. Sidney tried to give Eliza his attention, as she talked about some charity gala she’d hosted the year before, but it was becoming more and more difficult. Since yesterday, he felt like she’d become a burr stuck to his sleeve, but he couldn’t manage to dislodge her. It was bad enough that she had wormed her way into a visit to Tom and Mary’s, and even worse that Charlotte had been home. Sidney knew that he had not misunderstood the droop of her shoulders or the look of resignation in her eyes when he saw her standing in the doorway. She knew who Eliza was, all right, and she obviously assumed that her sudden appearance at Sidney’s side had romantic implications. Charlotte had slipped away before Sidney could greet her or think of some way to clarify what had actually happened. It was his own fault for not handling it better, but he was annoyed at Eliza for showing up and creating the situation at all.

Sidney couldn’t be upset at Charlotte. He’d been so cautious about making a move that she had no reason to think he had feelings for her. He just wished that he could figure out what those feelings actually were, and that was even more impossible with Eliza stuck to his side.

“And the last regatta I attended was, of course, the Henley Royal Regatta,” he heard Eliza saying. Sidney made a noncommittal noise in response, but it seemed to satisfy her enough that she went on to describe some anecdote involving a member of the House of Windsor and an Arab stallion. He only half-paid attention. He’d had his fill of her name-dropping in the past 24 hours. The wit that he remembered as bright and sparkling had struck him at brittle and, well…phony. The rush of affection and nostalgia that he had felt only yesterday was fading fast, as it became undeniably obvious that the Eliza who walked beside him now was not the girl he had once loved. He found it puzzling that he was the only one who seemed to see how dissimilar they’d grown over the years.

“But for sheer excitement,” Eliza chuckled, “what can compete with a sandcastle competition?” Sidney forced a chuckle, realizing that she had come to the end of her anecdote and was expecting more of a reaction from him.

“Well, this is no ordinary sandcastle competition,” he replied. At that moment, he spotted Alicia and Jenny excitedly tamping down sand around a huge castle, while Henry lugged his little bucket of water up from the shore. A split second later, he realized that it was Charlotte with them, her hair blowing in dark contrast to the bright blue top she wore. His stomach clenched, and he knew that he _had_ to handle this better today. He deftly guided Eliza in their direction. “Look at this one, for example,” he said, as they approached.

“Good morning, Charlotte,” he said brightly, determined to make it clear that he had no intention of ignoring her simply because Eliza happened to be around. Charlotte looked up, startled, but said nothing. He smiled at her, a genuine smile that contained all the joy that he felt at the sight of her so comfortably playing in the sand with the children he loved most. “This is a handsome construction. I assume Henry and you are the architects?”

 _Shit,’´_ Charlotte thought. This was exactly what she’d been hoping to avoid- an awkward, forced conversation with Sidney with Eliza hovering by his side. She straightened up, and Sidney didn’t miss either the wariness in her eyes or the coolness of her tone as she replied, “No, that would be Jenny. I’m just a labourer.” Charlotte darted a glance at Eliza, who was prettier up close than Charlotte had realized, but the other woman said nothing and Sidney made no effort at introducing them. His mind was too full of his own confusion to notice the looks that passed between the two women.

 _‘Shit,’_ Sidney thought. This would be harder than he thought. He had absolutely no idea what to say, now that he was there, and Eliza was being uncharacteristically silent. He masked his confusion by bending down to scoop Henry up into his arms. Even if he could remember everything he'd wanted, but had been too cautious, to say to Charlotte, he could hardly do so with Eliza right there. It would be safer to stick to some neutral topic, like sandcastles. “Well, it’s an amazing piece of work, and if it doesn’t win, there is no justice in the world. Is there, Henry?”

“No,” the little boy said automatically, and his uncle laughingly repeated it after him. There was something so adorably endearing about the way Henry said just about anything these days. Eliza chimed in to add “Yes, well done, children,” in a falsely chipper voice. Sidney missed the slight narrowing of her eyes as she looked down at Charlotte and the kids, but Charlotte saw it. Saw it and understood that, in Eliza’s eyes, she might as well be one of the ‘children’.

The awkward moment stretched out a little longer before Sidney decided that it would be better to seek Charlotte out once he could shake Eliza. To that end, he offered to show Eliza the historic ‘bathing machines’ that Tom had recreated for the Regency festival, which were still on the beach for the amusement of regatta spectators. “I’ll see you around, Charlotte,” Sidney said, making a point of meeting Charlotte’s eyes as he said goodbye. He walked down the beach with Eliza, not totally satisfied with the encounter, but at least it had given him an opportunity to break the ice with Charlotte. She must now realize that there wasn't anything going on between him and Eliza. There were undoubtedly guys out there who would flaunt one woman in front of another, but Sidney wasn't one of them. Charlotte would know that about him...wouldn't she?

* * *

Eliza remained quiet for several moments as she and Sidney walked away from the sandcastle. There was something familiar about that girl, and it was bothering her that she couldn’t figure out where she’d seen her. It obviously wasn’t at any important social event, because no one that Eliza knew would be caught dead rolling around in sand with a bunch of little brats. Even more irritating than the inability to place the girl’s face, though, were the unmistakable undercurrents between Sidney and the little brunette.

They weren’t lovers, that much Eliza was sure of. Not current, and not past. Sidney wasn’t the kind of guy to flaunt former lovers, and the brunette- _Charlotte_ , he’d called her- didn’t display any of the possessive jealousy that Eliza would expect from any woman who’d been in Sidney Parker’s bed. Yet there was a strange awkwardness to the way they’d spoken to each other, a sort of ‘testing the waters’ vibe that made Eliza certain there was something she was missing about the connection between them. Eliza Campion did _not_ like not being in full possession of all the details of a situation, and there was something about this situation that she needed to get a handle on quickly.

She looked back over her shoulder, glancing at the easy way Charlotte played in the sand with Sidney’s nieces and nephew. It almost seemed like she was actually enjoying herself, as unfathomable as that was to Eliza. The twinkle in Charlotte’s eye and the easy smile on her face began to jog loose a memory…but the girl in the memory had been elegant and polished, where this Charlotte creature was anything but. She couldn’t hold the question back any longer. “Who did you say that girl was?”

Sidney was pretty damn sure that he hadn’t said anything to Eliza about who Charlotte was, but he could hardly ignore such a blunt question. Nor did he need to answer it fully. “Who, Charlotte? Charlotte Heywood. She’s staying at Tom and Mary’s right now.”

“And she helps with the children?” Eliza probed further. She knew an evasive answer when she heard one.

“Among other things, yes,” Sidney replied, not liking either the tone of the question or the fact that Eliza had asked it.

“Well, she is rather a sweet little thing,” Eliza responded dismissively, cleverly disguising her discomfort that Sidney would not speak more openly about this Charlotte Heywood. Men were only discrete when there was something to conceal, but Eliza just couldn’t figure out why she had the sense that she’d seen Charlotte before or what Sidney could be hiding about her. He was not the type to sleep with the nanny, and Eliza didn’t frequent gatherings where she would have mingled with the hired help. Which is clearly what Charlotte was. Or was she? Sidney didn’t say she was the nanny, he’d only said that Charlotte was staying with his brother and sister-in-law.

Eliza’s eyes widened as she suddenly placed where she’d seen Charlotte before. That windblown hoyden back there in the sand was the same girl in the gold gown at the Midsummer Ball! The one that Sidney had been dancing so closely with before he’d spotted Eliza. Well, this just wouldn’t do at all. Eliza was going to need a bit of time to herself, to figure out her next steps after this new, and unwelcome, revelation. There was no way Sidney Parker was going to choose some little nobody over Eliza Campion…but it wouldn’t hurt to have a game plan for the rest of her time in Sanditon. Just in case…

* * *

Charlotte watched them walk away, and was painfully aware of what a beautiful couple they were together. Eliza's delicate blonde beauty was such a lovely contrast for Sidney's dark masculinity. It was far too easy to imagine pictures of them in a magazine, in some article about a posh society party full of rich, pretty people. Charlotte didn't belong in that world. She saw the image she made herself- sprawled out in the sand, hair tangled from the breeze- and she knew was no competition for Eliza’s elegant sophistication. Maybe it wasn't such a terrible thing that Sidney had walked over this way, with Eliza, after all. It had been awkward, yes, but it was over, and Charlotte could honestly say that she'd stuck to her guns about being cool and collected. She'd neither done or said anything to indicate to either one of them that Sidney meant anything to her at all. So...that was that. 

She permitted herself a tiny little sigh, and then turned her attention back to the children and their sandcastle.


End file.
